Do you stand at the door? Do you reach for the knob And its just out of reach? Do you step forward -- Only to be pulled back by your body? Is your body, old and decrepit, Waiting to let you go? Does it pull away from you Only to be pulled back by the tube? Soon your body will drown And the tube will loosen. The door will be in reach ... Can you see through the window now? At the rolling hills, green and rich And family frollicking on the lawn. Soon you will go through the door.
©2010, John A. Mills