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Knocking At My Door
by David Pekrul
10/23/2008 / Poetry
I heard a knock upon my door the night before today,
And though I tried to tune it out, it wouldn't go away,
The knock came once, and then came twice, and then it carried on,
And then I heard it all night long, until the break of dawn.
I feared the thing that would be there, but knew not what it was,
But still I feared to answer, and I'll tell you why - because,
Because I didn't know the things that it would want of me,
I wished that it would go away, forever let me be.
But every minute, every hour, it knocked upon my door,
And every time the knocking was much louder than before,
I tried to drown the noise by putting pillows on my head,
And when I thought the noise had stopped, the bed would shake instead.
The knocking and the shaking was much more than I could bear,
It drove me to distraction and it drove me to despair,
I prayed and cried and thrashed about, but still it wouldn't stop,
My strength was at the bottom, but the noise was at the top.
No longer could I lie there and endure this awful strain,
The noise was all but deafening and driving me insane,
I stood there in the middle of the room and bowed my head,
And listened to the knocking, as I watched my shaking bed.
And then before I knew it all the noise had gone away,
My bed had quit its shaking and was quiet where it lay,
I could have heard a pin drop if it wasn't for my breath,
I stood there breathing rapidly, like at the point of death.
I thought about the time before these torments came my way,
And what it was that I was doing the night of yesterday,
I soon discovered what had caused the knocking at my door,
And caused my bed to reel and shake upon my bedroom floor.
Was my own guilty conscience for the thing that I had done,
Instead of facing up to it, I tried instead to run,
I knew what caused the shaking and the knocking from the start,
Was just my nerves a-twitching, and the pounding of my heart.
www.myhiddenvoice.com The poetry of David Ronald Bruce Pekrul
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T1S 1E3
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