I stare around my room
At all the books
And think of author’s scribbling out the years
And of their family’s dark looks.
You could not live the way I do
And I could not live your way
Some doors are meant to be walked through
And some are not to be knocked on
Up late, with pad and pen,
I could not think of anything to write
And so I sadly wrote Amen
And turned off the light.
(David McLintock)