The Knock

There's a knock on my door But, I won't answer it, Even though I know who it's for Them I won't admit. There now will be a dislike or a yearn, I will wait and see if they'll return. On my door comes a knock, knock knock But, the sound I pretend not to hear, My heart has seemingly turned into a rock I will not shed another tear. Then the knocking it finally ceases, I will not again fall to pieces. On my door there is a silence But, I see someone sitting on my chair, I have lastly found my balance Someone who stayed and did care. I looked out my window and I see a grin, I joyfully let them in. Randy L. McClave