Three Stanzas About A Door Poem by Tyrone Gayle

Slow down! What is the rush St. Leo? Be very careful with the knob,
The other side can be surly and make you into a first class nut job,
Figure out that this is a magic trick due to your earlobes and nostrils,
Don't be ignited with ignorance instead ignore the so called must thrills.

I know you're not my granny with arthritis but please rest that wrist of yours,
Get a pair of glasses, your field of vision is infertile, so it is fruitfully blurred,
Who knows whether your goose bumps would be pampered with success?
Just stop and think about it, this is not an instant of taste and buy guineps,

Stop turning it! Are my words dust? You are so near to the threshold,
I am worried sick for you, my face is marred like a child with a fresh cold,
But hey! Brush away the termites, it's your present and it's your choice to open it,
I just had a thought as I approached a brown door and a voice cried, 'Oh pen it! '