Doors

I’ve closed all doors to you. As you’ve let me down - In so many ways… So no hope, no love, No warmth, no care. The way you’ve taught me to be. The way I’ve learned it from you. The one door that remains open Is the door of pain. That gushes with memories Hard to forget and harder To live with. Yet, I still do… And endure them all. No choice, I guess. Some Karmas don’t leave you. They say, if you have bad days They are like bad Karmas… Must have sinned so much in the past To have deserved a 'pal' like you. Anyway, the door of pain Even if I want to close it. Shut it down like a shutter of the mind. It juts open to the gushes of Thoughts, memories and feelings That barge into it, and often break it. I’ve tried mending it, repairing it, Cementing it to a permanent closure. But then some floods and hurricanes Are so strong and enormous – Violently disturbing! Lashing out with Myriads of miseries….that the cemented door Stands no ground, and crumbles down Like a hay stack, and the pain is like That elusive needle that is there, pricking me Every now and then, and yet hard to pin-point. Invisible in the infinite straws of distress.