Doors

they often look alike
the doorways that you see
the one that lets you in
and the one that lets you flee. . .

one lets you in
and one lets you out
you trade your freedom
for an ugly daily bout. . .

the doorways like a grave
i'm dying every day
i often feel it by my side
then feel it go away. . .

standing in the doorway
between the here and now
waiting for a signal
and what it might allow. . .

shot in the heart
each and every day
how'm i gonna make it
unless i run away?

1979