My life is a viral plague of what could have been
Of doors that were never allowed to be opened
Long eternal hallways of regret
Of window shopping alternate lives
Role playing an imaginary fashion show
Trying on different careers, hobbies and languages
But never having the courage to do anything more
I've always peaked through cracked doorways
Fascinated by what lies beyond
All the opportunities
And possibilities
Allowing the thrill of an impulsive dream to wash over me
The excitement and adventure of something new
In stories where I am
Impulsive and spontaneous
Embarking on a journey of discovery
Of incredible secret potential
Thriving and flourishing
In a world of doors easy to open
Where the shadows in the rooms
Are not the grim reaper
Waiting for me to fall
Where the consequences I faught to overcome
Are not haunting taunts
I told you so
Or pitiful whispers
I told you so
Or arrogant cries
I told you so
There are countless frames of deceased doors
All of them have my footsteps leading right to the boundary
All of them have handprints
On every silver and gold handle
Each door has been firmly slammed closed
And I've been caught red handed