The Laughing Door

There’s a door in the hall that laughs at me,
every time I pass, it wheezes with glee.
No knob, no frame, just painted on,
but something knocks when the lights are gone.

I brought it cookies, I sang a song,
it opened once to prove me wrong.
Inside? Just mirrors and birthday hats,
and a room full of whispering acrobats.

The Laughing Door knows my name,
tells the walls that I’m to blame.
I knock three times, it knocks back four,
hide and seek with the Laughing Door.

My friends all say it isn’t real,
but I’ve seen it giggle and squeal.
One day I’ll walk right through that place,
and wear a clown nose on my face.