Fifth Quarter

Yes. Fifth Quarter. Read.

There lies a door with a lock-

its home on the wall, floor, 

or even the heightening ceiling.

We spot it once at birth;

a solid color painted-thick or thin-

in the first quarter.

We meet it once more in love;

a pattern traced-bright or light-

in the second quarter.

We lean against it for support when 

trouble tramples hope- crying or courageously-

in the third quarter.

We lie within its threshold when we die;

red fate string -too long or too short-

in the fourth quarter.

We won't depart until with the door

the lines between are colored silver, 

and we await the fifth quarter to reveal a hidden truth.

Author's Note

Let me know what you think.

Reviews

[lyss]

I like how you portray the different stages in life and how everything fits together like a puzzle. Your poem reminds me of a riddle that I feel compelled to solve :) Well done.

[Melody]

Thank you Lyss. :)

[Benita-Staebell M - Kin..]

Interesting how you turn this piece into what you did.


I simply loved it Nicely penned BRAVO nice job!


I love the last stanza's lines here.




We won't depart until with the door

the lines between are colored silver,

and we await the fifth quarter to reveal a hidden truth.




Blessings. kindred poet

[Melody]

Thank you so much. :)

[Benita-Staebell M - KindredPoet]

You're very welcome. it's my pleasure always. blessings. kindred poet