PoemsBrowse PoemsSlamsFresh DropEchoes
LearnWriting TipsPoetry TermsPoets & ArtistsBooksFor Teachers
ExplorePoetry GenomePoem MapEchoesTake ActionGroups
AboutWrite a PoemDonateSign UpLog In

The House of Unlockable Doors


This is the house of 100 pound chairs. Where the tables are nailed to the floor. Where the windows are made out of bullet-proof glass and the neighbors broken and torn. If you find that the real world is making you sick, that a death wish is starting to form, then you may find yourself on a hospital bed in the House of Unlockable Doors.
©All Rights Reserved

Something wrong with this poem?

Share

Replies are closed for this poem.

If you or someone you know is struggling, you are not alone.

988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline — call or text 988, 24/7. Crisis Text Line — text HELLO to 741741.

carolineks95

18; Vegetarian; Traveler; Indie is my life. I don't do mornings.

View all poems →

Your Poem's Voice

See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.

Comments (0)

Comments are closed for this poem.