A poem about the occasional need for peace
How To Make An Exit
I wish what the adults had said was true and
that the world was what we made of it.
I’d reach into my coat pocket and with a pen
upon the nearest white wall draw
two adjacent doors, one marked “Enter”,
the other labeled “Exit”. Before the later,
I’d sketch thick black footprints leading
towards it, then slip my pen back into
my pocket before slipping out the former
while everyone stared down with sly grins.