Doors

Doors

I've been through doors that made me happy.
I've gone through doors that made me sad.
Behind doors it did excite me.
Behind doors I've often cried.
Behind doors I saw my father .
As he lay so still when dead.
Behind doors I felt the sorrow.
As I lay upon his bed.
To late to say I'm sorry.
The words for him or I to say.
We stood by what we thought was right.
I stand by it every day.
His door to life is closed now.
But, His memory is always there.
His leaving wasn't his choice. It really wasn't fair.
I still talk to my father , No better one could I find.
Because He's not here in person. He is always on my mind.

Howard Thomas Barton

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