I let you in; I let you out,
for me, there's no distinction,
sometimes within, sometimes without,
my purpose is transition.
For some, I'm open; others shut
an opening or restriction?
An entrance or an obstacle,
a constant contradiction.
Wooden, steel or fibreglass,
hinged, sliding or revolving,
pivoting or collapsible,
I'm capable of evolving.
Sometimes they've given me a name,
sometimes I'm only a number,
or completely anonymous,
just a rectangle of lumber.
Tinker, tailor, beggar, queen,
all must pass through my portal,
there is no stopping in-between
for animal or mortal.
You pass as adult, child or sage,
in spring, summer, winter and fall,
standing, sitting or feet first,
on the final journey of all.