On the Other Side of the Door

"On the Other Side of the Door"
I think she would've been proud,
As she held her head up high.
That the boy she once gave...
Like changing leaves into an autumn sky.
Had learned to dance,
Had such a sing!
That her forgotten boy could do anything.
I think she would've been proud.
If she ever thought that all her choice would be the best for him.
If her little life and it's rejoice didn't fit inside his skin.
If the song, the lullabies, she sang wouldn't make him win.
I think she would've been...
The summer air has cooled, here.
A chill is turned, again.
And life is sure a place to be,
When it's all about what could've been.
I ask the grey inside the morning sky if what I do is right.
Her answer is just a whisper,
A blur passing in the night.
I think,
I hope she is proud of me.
And all-that-he-has-done...
For losing is the winner's way of how it must be won.
He hides his head up, now, so high it does not see the ground.
For this,
Would she be proud of me?

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