The Doorway

a doorway stands above me
painted on a wall
is it a looming possibility?
does it even open at all?
i pull and i push on it
but it doesn’t even rattle
why must i commit
to such a losing battle?
i pull myself from its beams
but in the air a feeling lingers
like a glimmer of a dream
just inches from my fingers
why can’t i walk away?
i’m stuck yet i’m still free
i sit here every day
just the painted door and me