Walking through a yellow wood i should chance
Upon a door at the base of a tree
I stopped to give the door a second glance
Pausing to think what it could mean to me

To travel through could be an adventure
Filled with toadstools and inquisitive gnomes
But I only speak from pure conjecture
From the sheltered existence of my home

I know nothing of fairy doors or lands
I don’t know where this tiny door may lead
But still, my attention this door commands
The whimsical distraction that I need

      To open up that door and step inside
      Is to choose to leave everything behind