Bent on the edge, revived on the inside;
reason can be computed, Lord's blessings is infinite.
Under the darkness of delusion, just wake up and breath high.
In my subconscious mind, I checkmate to rewind;
foolproof, getting in the flow, I scroll,
in timeless processor, soon to be predecessor,
admonish your successor, to shy away from the ways
and means of the oppressor, and reach for the open doors.
Went down memory lane, am gonna share mine;
without headway, we aim to find easy way to same end;
back to base, rundown, underestimated, I contemplated, meditated.
We seek admiration, and put too much concentration;
seeking affirmation, from folks who expect stagnation;
never go extra mile to impress naysayers;
cause when you become depress, they will jest on express;
If you digress in distress; push on,
live for God, and not for the world,
and reach for the open doors.
To dine and wine under their vine;
they make you an offer, thinking you won't refuse;
I no longer conform, cause I was transformed;
Now I reach for the open doors.
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (Open Doors by Anyi Nnaji )
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(August 19, 1902 – May 19, 1971)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(23 November 1920 - 20 April 1970)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(June 7, 1943)
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