Closed Door

Photo: Orchid Chakma

The door that got closed forever,
No one has its key.
No hammer will do.
No quirky tools either.

When you walked in,
You didn't know you'd have to walk out, too.
And so that cold hard door stands still,
On that high mountain peak,
With little trace of life ever walking past it.

Oh, what could it have looked like,
Back in its lively days?
Full of laughter and cries,
Of wrongs and rights.

Such little doors get closed every now and then
On every snowy mountain peak.

The writer is a student at Scholars' School and College.