Foot in the Door
Let me in, Let me in, or I’ll
Force my way in, cried the
Gentle youth, whose hand quivered
Upon the doorknob.
That boy can overlook being
Chastened so audacious.
That middle-aged can’t look
me in the eye so petrified.
That elder sees over my head
beyond so aligned.
This poem is about:
Me
Our world