Closing Doors

 A door closed to a room not used in a house for a young man.

The attic's first to go were memories are kept,

the past is all in there the happiness and regrets, he can't

clime back in for a glimpse so he just forgets.

    Another door closed to a room not used.

The upstairs rooms he liked to roam a bedroom

with soft dimmed lights with curtains and pillows

and other such delights,

lying in his lovers arms with all his world put right.

   That door closed the room not used.

Spare rooms all empty, a nursery no longer used,

the long dark nights with a child that cried

his love she did consume. All the bedrooms quite now,

as quite as a tomb.

   A door closes to a room not used.

The bathroom he could lie and soak in lonely candle light,

and dream of a better future for his children and his wife,

it's all long past now the worry and the strife.

   The door closes the rooms not used.

The staircase lined with photographs of family kith and kin,

with old forgotten faces that look very much like him.

He can't climb the stairs now so the upstairs is shut to him.

The hall leads into the kitchen with memories of morning

and night, fried breakfasts and late night supers and boozy

Saturday night. And party's where they flock together and

put the world to right. It's oh so quite now there's no one

to invite.

   The door closed the room's not used.

The dinning room or study depending on how it was used.

Birthdays and Christmas dinners and holiday brochures viewed.

The table full of school books with facts he misconstrued.

And dinner parties and candle light with friends to be amused.

   Another door closed to a room not used.

A living room to lounge in a warm and cosy place,

he was safe and sound there content within this space.

The vestibule just off the hall a place for hats and coat, 

the door ajar he see's outside dare he step out?

The view from there inviting him to go outside the house,

If he did the door would close of that he had no doubt.