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by Karen Schwartz
There are many doors inside me, you canít get in without a key,
Each door has its own purpose that is unbeknownst to me.
Iíve tried to find one open to discover whatís inside,
Perhaps some precious jewels which I promised I would hide.
As I walk past my own garden, I see the seeds begin to bloom,
Their fragrant scent surrounds me, are they coming from each room?
My thoughts are budding flowers, as I look upon the scene,
Each hue tells me a secret, yet Iím not sure what they mean,
A meadow full of babyís breath, reminds me of a time,
When I was full of innocence but now theyíre past their prime.
The different shades of roses shed a different light on me,
A vast bouquet of feelings spread for everyone to see.
While the virgin rose of trust speaks, life becomes so safe and mellow,
Then judgment comes, her floral beauty turns to faded yellow.
The peach rose spreads her nectar, while her sweetness keeps me honest,
This roseís vibrant hue is one of which I am the fondest.
When jealousy rears her ugly head, the orange rose brings her doom,
She waits for all the riches in the world to be exhumed.
The rose of love lies patiently she knows sheíll be discovered,
Her spirit floats within the air until her soulís uncovered.
The rose of love so pretty in her coat of baby pink,
If trust grew in my garden, love would find me, donít you think?
The door of love is closed and on the handle lies a stain,
From all the hurt loveís caused me leaving nothing more than pain.
I pound upon loveís door and then it opens just a crack,
I know that if I leave now, she will never take me back.
Approaching very slowly, I ask if she will let me in.
I know that if sheíll take the risk, her blooming will begin.
While I watch each door fly open, I forget my past of strife
I look ahead, I donít look backÖI begin my brand new life.