The most difficult thing I find about life —
More even than people, emotions and strife —
More than survival and duties and chores–
The most difficult thing, I find, is the doors.
So many to study–
So many to choose–
So many to knock on–
So many to lose.
There’s no way to feasibly fit through them all–
Some bigger than dreams–
Or impossibly small.
Some doors are shuttered and covered with bars–
Still others are damaged and branded by scars.
And try as I might to cheat and peek through–
I only see what ifs still blocking my view.