Silent Knocks

    When you hear a slight rattling outside the door

you let out a cry, "who's there?"

when there was no one at the door

just some dried leaves.

There isn't even a single cloth on the hanger

not even a shadow of things

all the plants are dead, the wind is dry

the chair who's whole purpose is to rock,

is still like a man in despair.

Smoking a cigarette but the ashtray is broken,

The wind whistles through your bones, 

it's this lonely

Still, the delusional you holler "who's there?"..........

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