Category: Poem 3

The Doorman

The Doorman by Nelia-Sol White   I Am a fly on a wall that No one built.   I Watch them walk past me, A nod or a smile never there.   I Open the same door over and over again, Swoosh, swoosh, revolving, spinning.   I Say Good Morning, Mr. Davison! But only air passes between us.   I… Read more →