lock the door

the years stretch out 

i close the door

another task 

another chore

five years past and gone

maybe more

have i lost myself

in the mundane

the strong bolt turns 

pin tumblers slick

i think of nothing

that's the trick

to still the thoughts

that poke and prick

and keep me safe

from the truth

if i can forget

tomorrow won't come

where all the hopes

and fears are from

and all the things

i haven't done

might slowly and softly

creep away