The Door of Opportunity

I stand outside the garden door,

Wondering why it is ajar.

Could it be an invitation?

Or just my imagination,

Playing games with my intention,

Just a pretext of prevention.

The wall stands tall, eight feet or more,

Three feet wide - a solid core.

Yet the door stands quite unlocked,

Offering entry quite unblocked,

Will they answer if I knocked?

Will they like me if we talked?

 

May I venture through the door?

NO! He says, then adding more.

I don’t even know your name,

I’m not privy to your fame.

Perhaps harassment is your game,

Thanks for coming just the same.

The door slams shut and locks quite tight,

Here I stand no chance to fight.

No opportunity to state my case,

No invitation for saving face.

With no allowance into the place,

I stumble away in dark disgrace.

Ken Ferguson