The life I live, a quiet one indeed. There's very little moving except for a gentle swing, or even a painful slam. No one ever says sorry though, they just open me up and walk right through me as if I wasn't even there. I don't mind though, you get used to the bumps and bruises, the cuts and scars. You begin to realize how useful that you truly are, how you let people in and out, protect them from the weather, or even protect them from others. Life as a door, is pretty great, helping others like that.
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