Door

The door opens then it shuts, Coming to a complete halt. The room is left empty, Without anything to occupy it's inhabitants. The imprint of furniture, still fresh from when it was moved Sitting, waiting Fingerprints on the doorknob. Soon to be replaced by the touch of someone else. Mircofibers of dust, left sitting and waiting. remembrance of the sound of voices. Once cheerful. Now forlorn, lost in the bitter slam of the door. The door sits and waits. Staring into the blank space. But alas, No one returns to open the door around the corner from the steps. Leaving the door to sit and wait, with a pink slip attached to it. Soon to wither away in renovation. Removing the memories the room couldn't lock away. No love left to unlock the door