The wooden door over there
stands for centuries there
it does not look bare
it is one that which is rare.
The wood is known as teak
having everything in sleek
the thickness and rays found greatly
show its tenacity and beauty mostly.
The door opens out and closes
with its hinges still in force
creak does it at times
still being alert all times.
Scenes that took place inside
incidents that happened outside
has the door recorded with dates
never would it reveal at any rate.
The door is a silent spectator
listening to that transpires now and later
from within and without be it
never commenting good or bad in a bit.
Doors like human has ears and eyes
and a mouth too but very nice
speaking nothing ill of anyone
preserving its dignity always never for fun.
Meenas Poems 