We give ourselves a place to hide
With simple words that do abide
Words we use to shut the door
To knowing us forever more
We paint the door a friendly coat
To mask the cracks that do denote
And hope our hinges won't betray
What we own in disarray.
As we stand behind this door
With the tiny crack above the floor
It does allow a light seam in
That does little for the view within
We think the doorbell's ring is clear
But its true sound we do not hear
This door of platitudes do prevent
Letting all know the self-evident
John Anderson
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/hiding-55/
