Behind closed doors it may feel like rain.  Things are going on, causing you so much pain.
You may experience weeping, maybe even cry.  You may feel like giving up, just refuse to die.
Doors can be opened.  You have the key.  Never give up on life; you were bore to be free.
Behind closed doors, you may be all alone.  Give someone a call, use your telephone.  
If things really get rough, bow your head and pray.  Believe me God will listen, to every word you say.
By, Sandra Juanita Nailing

The door never relinquished its grip,
baneful whispers knocked endlessly
non where heard but some screamed.

Clamouring upon senses worth, edging
them towards deliriums shade. Wishing
to open lingering to be again rebirthed.

But wood inscribed knots hidden where
eyes did not linger, few could see what it
forcibly entombed, kept forever concealed.

There are many bushes that linger outside
its view, these are the souls that dared to
knock once now obscured.

It will keep knocking on the veil, waiting
for it true intent now cunningly revealed. 
Who will be its bearer, who will keep it entombed.

*"Can you hear the door knocking will you
seek its shrouded truths,

1.
Inscribe all your heartaches on my lips.
2.
Convince me that I'm not worthless.
3.
You're my ocean and I'm drowning.
4.
She loved like she lived, recklessly.
5.
Brave words die on my lips.
6.
You and I were never we.
7.
Sometime you are your own trigger.
8.
You echo through my bruised ribs.
9.
Your heart needs bifocals to love.
10.
I'm getting lost on purpose today.

Tempted to get up
Even though it's only six
I'm ready to go
And I think that it is time
Yes, I think that it is time.