Life, said the old poet <br />is an insistent knocking <br />on doors that won't open <br />into houses <br />that won't be there <br />by the time <br />they do. <br /> <br />So relax, stop knocking, <br />sit on the stoop <br />in front of the house <br />that won't be there. <br /> <br />Soon enough <br />the owner, <br />the houseless owner, <br />must exit, <br />looking for a new house, <br />a new way through, <br />and you'll find <br />he doesn't look any better than, <br />or different from, <br />you.<br /><br />Percy Dovetonsils<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/an-insistent-knocking/
