Although its lips did move, I couldn’t hear it speak,
Was busy with thoughts, and their noises were at peak,
Else I would have seen it open the door, and walk out,
The room was empty, of that there was no doubt.
I ran out onto the street, to the fountain square,
Where will I head, I see its footprints everywhere,
Walking in all directions, and walking back again,
They were all over the place, like a monsoon rain.
I walked back into the room, now empty and so closed,
I wondered, was this where I had kept love confined,
Where I expected it to stay, until I gave it away,
And it lay there, knowing it wouldn’t see such a day.
Not even a window, where it could see or be seen,
With my mind as guardian, nobody more mean,
My science, my logic, a door it could never break,
I still wonder, how such a fortress, I could ever make.
And yet today, seeing this room empty, I begin to ponder,
Was it ever there, could I really have captured this wonder,
Did I hide it from all else and itself, behind this open door,
Or did it burst open, because there was too much to store.
Whatever the reason, there is no longer love in my heart,
A place I thought it would stay, till I told it to part,
But who was I to build a dam, to contain this flood,
One that blossomed forth from every new bud.
I try to forget it and move on, but I cannot restrain,
To think, of where love has gone, alone again,
But I know it will be back, oozing from my every pore,
If only I promise, to never again close that door.
Special Thanks to Harold Robbins for the title. The moment I first saw it I fell in love with the title, I mean, the very thought, how could love go anywhere? Although have never got round to the book itself, decided that I would explore that title as a thought one day, and dear Robbins, here it is, for all that you gave me.