Knock, Knock.

One of these days I’d really love to be forced to replace a door.

Not because it jammed or the wood started splintering.

Not because I lost my keys.

Not because the paint outgrew my tastes.

And certainly not because my landlord told me to do so.

No.

If you want to knock down my door, then grow a set and do it.

89dceb261b64321ef5ebc6cc9bb85ad4

 

 

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