People are closed doors, all shut tight with a lock,
Inside holds everything, so reach out and knock.
Welcoming, mysterious, cunning and rude.
No door is the same, all a different mood.
Through just a small crack, one lets out what he will,
Whether it is a chunk or a sliver; a shivering chill.
Some are closed forever, the door will not leak,
And in attempts to open, none is heard but a creak.
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