If I were a window,

could I let in only light?

Would you accept my faults and worries,

and set my wrongs to rights?

 

No,

you would judge and hack away

at the things that make my day.

 

So,

to be a door is much easier,

to pretend you are not who you are.

To shut away your darkest fears

and decieve those guillable hearts.

 

Wouldn't it be nice to see

a door, that is much like me,

open and expose its truth

and find the genuine you.

All the faults and all the cracks,

all the hapiness and all the laughs.

 

Now  this would be a sight to see,

acceptance for all,

and acceptance in me.