You knock timidly on my door
Are you afraid of the ogre on the other side?
Am I once more the villain in your life’s play?
I answer your knocking,
Stand there listening to what you are selling
Then tell you politely but unmistakably, “Not today thank you”
I close the door that separates us
In my final glimpse of you I see you lost and saddened
I rest my head against the door as it clicks shut.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper into the wood, “you’re too late.”
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