The Doors That Would Not Open Poem by NADYA AWADH

I was told
that right now
i had something to unfold
but i failed to retrace
all that had passed
and believed in block walls
rather than open doors.

What happens
if for so long
you linger by a door
knocking and waiting
knocking and waiting
but not a single response
from that within.

You roam around
looking and longing
for the slightest move
of the knob
but the looking,
the longing,
so lacking,
so blank.

Blame me not
if i presume there are
no doors,
or at least those
that open,
for standing in front
of a shut door
is much more
like standing before
a solid block wall.