What Is It With Children And Doors?

Doors can make such gentle sounds
When closed by gentle hands
But when slammed against the frame
An earthquake shakes the lands

“It’s not my fault it is the door”
Or so my children tell me
My ears and bones tell different tales
As the shock waves rush right through me

Inside the house or in the car
It matters not at all
Every single swinging door
Could break the glass or wall

But wait I think I see one time
When this does not ring true
If we think of outer doors
It’s different through and through

Whether it’s the back or front
If it goes to open air
The only guarantee is this
They’ll leave it hanging there

Open to the elements
The wind and rain and snow
The heating is on fullest blast
But the cold is all we know

I know my children are unique
But just not in this matter
They have not learnt to use a door
And fingers often splatter

Were you born in a barn? Don’t slam that door
Is the hopeless parents’ lament
But whether it goes in the hole or is left
You just know that it’s not what you meant

What Is It With Children And Doors?

BurtleBard

Burtle, United Kingdom

  • Artist
    Notes
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desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait

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