It may be sincere, but it’s still invasive.
To pry a door open when all outward signs diaplay its reluctance,
expresses quite clearly your persistence to chaos.
Some things shouldn’t be awakened,
some things shouldn’t be disturbed,
lurking may be a soul that’s too far broken,
and your ears may be filled, with a shrill that can’t be unheard.
Leave people where they want to be,
wait at the door patiently,
some doors don’t want to be opened,
irrespective of you having a key.
I’ve told you I’m too far fetched of too far fetched,
this solitude demeanour is on my being etched,
A banished soul, a distant wretch.