Red Door

About one year ago,
I was walking through my halls.
I kept seeing the same white doors,
And the same old boring walls.

I went through some at random,
And opened others with care.
I felt like this endless maze,
Was anything but fair.

Just when I thought,
I could not go on anymore,
I was startled to turn and find,
A red-pink, and not white, door.

Finally something different,
A little flavor for a change.
I welcomed the colorful addition,
And did not think it strange.

I peered through the keyhole,
Underneath the sliver of space near the floor.
But I didn't dare barge through,
So rather I slowly opened the door.

What I saw and heard,
Is a different story to tell.
But the image of that door,
Causes my heart to swell.

I've closed it and walked away,
Only to somehow find it again.
Every time I see that color,
Goosebumps invade my skin.

I want to go behind the door,
But does what's behind the door want me?
To find out I'd probably have to do more,
Then simply knock and count to three.

I hope that they can hear,
Because I'm knocking as hard as I can.
Even though I don't know what to do,
And I don't have any sort of plan.