the doorman

poetry by D.e.e.L


i doubt leaving this room is a good idea
and wondering will get me nowhere
perhaps the doorman downstairs can lock me in
enough money and he’d stand gaurd
and get my groceries
id need milk, eggs, rice, beer, and something sweet
hard cider
he wouldn’t go for it though
these dimples
he’d think he was helping a child run away from the world
grounding myself for the trouble i might cause
i won’t cause
i can’t
too much worry weighs down on me within each day
too much doubt
i don’t even know where i’m going out there
where i’ll end up
who i’ll become
but in here
in here i can be anyone
do anything
here in…nowhere really
maybe though
if i step out of here
take the elevator
i’ll take the stairs
jump them all
not one by one
and then run up to the doorman
and ask him why he stands there
all day
opening doors for others
and not himself

each step falls behind the last
i take one or two before grabbing the railings
and launching myself down
skipping the rest
at the bottom i hesitate
then enter the lobby
stand looking on as the doorman lets in someone else
i walk over
tap his shoulder
and ask him why he can’t open the door for himself
be someone everyone knows
and he replies
no one needs someone else to open every door for them
but i’m here to remind them that there are those
caring enough to help them through things
not all doors are meant to be opened alone
passing on this hope is what i’m meant to do
i don’t need to be known by everyone
just those willing to thank someone for getting them through the first door each day

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