On life’s front step, there’s no welcome home mat
Desperate bare knuckled knocks dissipate
The door’s fortified, shaped life a tombstone
Embedded in a six-foot deep foundation
Wondering if our DNA’s the password to success
If our talent is the key that will unlock for us to pass
Before the ascent of the drawbridge
And we are crushed in the stampede
On life’s doorstep we stand alone
At its mercy like an abundant orphan
Frantic yanks on the lock and chain
To escape the swing of the guillotine
We await our turn in the long queue
Many fall off the edge before their cue
We pick the lock trying to cheat
Mistaken for criminals we risk arrest
We hope life’s looking through the peephole
Before our past catches on and pulls us into the abysmal
That mercy’s the hinges that will swing the door open
Turn the doorknob before the neighbours complain