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I wrote this one night, after I was inspired by a good friend of mine. (you know who you are!)

The Door To my heart was left open, the key laid on the white table right next to the door, just incase the door was ever to close. My love was left explosed to the cruel people of this insensitve world. Some people would take a bit of my love, and then leave without a word. Other people would sneak through the door and steal a tiny bit of my love at a time. Then some people would wait to be invited in by a simple gesture, like a smile, or a kiss, and then whatever love they took they were sure to replace with twice the amount. With all of those nice people, I have found faults, and/or a reason to close the door. But, with the door closed it seemed as if I became a different person. I was cruel and mean, I spoke sharply and without thinking first. After a while of having the door closed, I found I didn't like myself, so I would open the door a crack, and kept the key hidden tightly in the palm of my hand. After a while longer, I reopened the door all of the way, and I kept it open.
Only now, I sometimes know when to close it, I know when to lock it, when to turn people away and when to welecome them. I also know though, that I have not mastered this task yet, but I know that someday Mr. Right will come knocking and I will let him in.
But until then, there will be many Mr. Wrongs disguised as Mr. Right and I will be fooled by their mask. I will risk the pain, only to be hurt and close my heart again for a short while.
My heart though remains open for the time being.

Augest, 1999.

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Email: becky_blueflower@hotmail.com