The swinging door...

The swinging door...
It swings open, then close. Back and forth, sending off a chill from the breeze.
One walks in, takes a shot or two, takes advantage of a young female, then leaves.
The young female secretly wishes that the betrayal could somehow cease
but it’s just the same shit, a different day; there is nothing she hasn’t seen.

The swinging door...
That young female left that door open for her father one day, simply filled with hope.
He walked in on time; they laughed and smiled, until his true colors were shown.
And then out the door he went, nonchalantly, with his life, he began moving on
Leaving her in her tears, thinking to herself that someone who meant the world to her was now gone.

The swinging door...
Her mother had always been inside, but one day she decided to leave
becoming the person she promised never to be, the young girl couldn’t believe what she was seeing.
A blow to the body was simply nothing but another blow to her heart and inside her tears seeped.
Why was it so difficult for someone she loved to stay; was there anyone she could keep?

The swinging door...
So many footprints on the doormat, you know, the one I call my heart.
Yes. That young female is me; you probably knew that from the start.
In and out they go became used to it; if you look closely you'll see their mark.
Wanting desperately to cover it up, it’s not something I would like to flaunt.

The swinging door...
Maybe, just maybe, access should be denied.
Put a lock on it, if you not already in, you just stuck on the outside.
No more giving in, nor being blind to your clever disguise.
My swinging door is locked. Continuing on with who I already have in my life.