There is no door
He was made to love her. She made him so.
He fought back none at all, and flowed with the current,
dismissed the past and let the future go,
but unlikely again, He took the present

He took the present, and he looked in her eyes,
and "Will you marry me?" was the question to her,
She declined the present, and talked of the future,
"The design's like that, and we can't be together."

Broken, as he was, he picked pieces of his self,
shuffled as a deck, looking at her in vain,
His knotted eyebrows killed the spring in his eyes,
Tasting the tears that he swallowed with pain

She was the one, who showed him the way,
pulled him like a magnet, made him love from the core,
Now she pulled the shades, and ripped the walls naked,
and tells him with a snicker "There isn't a door!"

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