on the other side of closed doors...

there's so many faces that are trying to relate... strangers seeking the feel misunderstood n untamed... craving to be held in between the light of the changes of days... not knowing who to call upon to luv until the tongue shapes a name... in a heart there's so much to learn as turns are played... attempting to bring self from behind closed doors n be more than entertained... to somehow remain within the embrace so comforts can claim what is to become something other than the same... not knowing who's who ignoring the intent of a pure thought to get to a point to feel the heat from a flame... sparked not to burn the skin but to warm the intensity sparking an unknown gain... on the other side of smile are those staring at the joy they were never given as they somehow return to play in the rain... losing the curiosity for the pain abuses the self respect it takes to refuse the hate... as determinations consider there's pieces of others gathered for the reconstruction done with the misfortune of willingness tamed... retracted n forced to go without the sensitivity of a friend as hope is alive yet caught in a phase... resisting the efforts to obtain the fear causing the eventual twist of games... having a worth in the silence going unseen by the naked eyes unable to witness the sincerity in similarities that wind up in frames... hung on display to be seen by the memory of fingertips somewhere danger doesn't exist with its shame... for believing is the hardest thing to wrap the mind around jus wanting to be a part of another's fame... never to visualize a sense of leaving in a world where it seems everyone somehow escapes... people are scared to open up to the peace due to there's no telling if their relentlessness is as real as their reason to stay... as time tip toes away from the youth we once overlooked for the possibility of going unscathed... free from the disrespect of betrayal that moves in a different motion within passions loss as one stays in their own lane... shaking the head to pick at useless characters faking the truths n making it hard to decipher in which passerby will be still enough to quietly lay with the wheels of a locomotive train... wrecked in the middle of life awaiting a new set of wheels to roll on to the promises more than felt as proof is the only thing unafraid to trade space... once brave the fallen has turned inward to correct a mindset needing to chose a specific connection in the patience of the wait... ok with being alone for the streets are filled with the careless ones who only appear to be brave... covering up the last failure with the next mistake... as the hiding holds the key on the other side of locked doors ever so safe...