Three Doors

In a hall with three doors, she stands

 

She had hoped she would be brave

Yet she is afraid

She doesn't know what lay beyond the doors

 

But she does not despair

She examines every door

 

The first is made out of wood, simple but sturdy

When she tries the handle, it clicks easily

Peeking through, she sees a well lighted hallway so long that she can't see the end

 

That looks safe enough, she thinks to herself

But rather boring, does she really want to walk so far for who knows how long?

 

The second is more extravagant, encased in a silver frame

She tries to turn this door's handle as well, but it falls off in her hand

When she runs her finger along the frame, silver paint flakes off

 

That makes this easier, I guess...

 

The final door intrigues her the most

From a distance, she had thought the door was black, but as she approaches she realizes that there is no door, only a frame.

Looking in, she sees only void

 

She is overcome by curiousity

She slowly extends her hand in, watching as the dark wraps itself around her fingers

It is not cold, as she had expected, but strangely warm.

She does not know what lay beyond this gloom

But in reality, she does not know what is beyond the other doors either

So she decides

She walks through the doorway, into the darkness

This poem is about: 
Me

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