Doors

What secrets do you behold?
What lies behind the closed exteriors?

I think often of those soulful eyes sought to be mine
I think often of the recherche that ought to be mine

Restless and rancid,
Rancor runs amok

The purposeful silences and invidious glances
The if and buts of a promise never fulfilled

The beauty that lies within you
That which you seek never be known

Strong and Silent
Graceful and Gregarious

A withdrawn you and a withered me
Stare into oblivion fleeing all things glee

Will you not let me in
O my loved one