I heard a knock, but we never opened
The Word appears on t-shirts and
street signs are imbued with messages
anyone would get.
We didn't read anything into them.
He sent us that last box.
But we didn't get it.
Two angels are picking it up
in an empty warehouse
and it's over.
Our world is gone
and we missed the end.
While our backs were turned
the answers played out.
(Spoiler. While this poem has some Whovian references and may be confusing, don't worry, I only have a little idea of what it means myself. I found it scribbled in my poetry journal. If you've ever kept a journal saved for thoughts late at night then read them in the morning. You'll know what I mean. But hey, I liked how mysterious this sounds and it makes me think of so many thinks it might start to mean.)