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A Sonnet for the Menzies Revolving Doors

Artwork By Kim Tran

 

You know of which I speak there are five doors
Stupid dumb and just a bit moronic
Through these doors do we pass each morn in scores
But for the pain it would be so comic

Stop start all day so that I have but flinched
Every time do they force your walk to halt
The man who chose these dumb doors must be pinched
We must find he who is so much at fault

How can it be for them to work so hard
Always at least one door out of order
In my morning walk does it leave me scarred
In my soul does this sow much disorder

These doors each morn do make me fall apart
The birth of your demise shall I kick start.

 

Nicole Willis

The author Nicole Willis

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