Knock and it will open,
says the sage
who obviously never saw
this door where I knock
and my knuckles get raw.
Common sense says:
stop knocking,
put salve on your broken skin,
a bandage even.
But it opened once long ago—
It did—I know—I recall
If I knock once more—
this time give it my all—
This time my knuckles are speaking:
Listen, they say,
No more,
Find a different door.
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