It really occurs to me
that I want a room with no doors.
Because doors let people in
Or maybe it's the house,
because the house locks them all together
with little paper walls that must mean love and perfection.
But none of it is really true.
I want to burn the paper walls
and leave the doors standing
So they could enter my room whenever they like.
But my room would be the world.
And I could do what I wanted and feel what I wanted
Without fearing the doors.
The doors are horrible, awful, dreadful things.
Full of spite and anger and rigidness
with a screaming creak that tells me
I'm stupid for thinking so.
And next to me sits and impressive, but stupid always,
pile of little paper walls, even smaller,
Holding in the hate, the sadness, soaking up the tears. Oh! I wish the fire would come and burn these walls
and leave me cool and calm in the fury, unscathed.
Only to step lightly over the ashes
never to carry any of them with me.
And I could leave them, for their better, or ther worse,
to rage at the uselessness of their door or to credit
the fiery incident
to themselves. Or maybe even secretly weep
into their own little paper walls.
And I would move on to the world, to better things,
to doors that open out.
Because that's the nature of doors...
none
are exactly alike.

First of all, hiya, welcome to MB and such like...

This is very different to anything else I have read on here lately.
Your thoughts seem a bit "hickeldy-pickeldy" ... love that saying!

Also maybe try breaking up the poem into "stanzas" or blocks so it doesnt look so overpowering to read!

Neat writing!

Keep posting, take care...

Kashimaya xx

Yes, welcome indeed, with all our hearts, to our Poetry board and forum.

I agree with Try...

You know where you have a period ending a section of your poem? Make a break each time after that; put in some white space, let some light in. This will improve the poem and invite people to read it; people do not readily read poems which are monolithic in appearance, I have learned over the years. Open some windows.

Then there is one place, about 62% of the way down the page, where one line escaped and went off on its own, out to the right margin; catch it and put it back in its place.

The poem itself, in terms of content, is quite interesting. These external matters which I mention, however, do have tremendous influence on readership and appreciation. Just some friendly advice from a grizzled old editor.

Welcome once again; thank you so much for coming to join us!

This is a very interesting write... as the two before me stated ... I definately agree, breaking it up a bit would help... just a little space between different places..

and this line:
Holding in the hate, the sadness, soaking up the tears. Oh! I wish the fire would come and

maybe break it down to this:

Holding in the hate, the sadness, soaking up the tears.
Oh! I wish the fire would come and burn these walls

Other then that...a very deep and powerful piece, can't wait to read more of your work!