In Matthew 7:7 and in Luke 11:9
That unto those who knock
It shall be opened.
I have been rapping at many doors for some time.
The skin on my knuckles is split.
The flesh bleeds
And in some places the bare bone shows.
The walls here look too much like doors.
There is nothing behind them
Save cold and empty stone
Or rooms already full to bursting
With those who are interested in keeping the door shut
How long am I expected
To break my hands against panels
That will not slide aside because there is no track for them
That will not part because they have no hinges?
At what point do I pass from hope
That I continue