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: 
Our world


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