If you were that door

you know, the one that

has freshly painted blue coat

yellow trim 

squeezed fresh as lemonade

beautiful fresh cut flowers that demand attention

at a distance you can see it

half a mile away able to

open at whoever is

passing by

in between crumbling doorsteps

peeeling paint and, you know

near that one door that looks out of

place that is just 

left alone teeming with "sighs"

and "maybe if they kept up better"

and "lazy" and "tired" 

"filthy and disgusting"

but you,

you were given another color yesterday

purple above the yellow trim

as if you needed it to be more

humble

reflecting off that, not dark but

sky blue the one that people

see for miles and smile and laugh at with whispers of

admiration whispering secrets, reminiscing memories, beautiful moments

you are something you are told

You will be something, do something, love someone, achieve something

standing proudly you let your new coat gleam believing

you became that beautiful door all by yourself

something out of a Beautiful Home magazine with top prizes

but the truth is 

you did nothing to earn that coat

you still earn those smiles and secrets, friendly hellos 

NOTICED

and endless laughter but that door next to you

that door, with no fresh paint is doing more than you

humble, quiet, sweeping away the rocks building

fresh concrete by himself and forcing

smiles because no one smiles at him 

learning English in a year, making sense of the

ridiculous street signs, people

buzzing languages and yet no one notices

because

he doesn't stand out like...

your door

you know, the one that

has freshly painted blue coat

yellow trim 

squeezed fresh as lemonade