Emptied.

It went many years, 
But at last came a knock, 
And I thought of the door 
With no lock to lock. 

I blew out the light, 
I tip-toed the floor, 
And raised both hands 
In prayer to the door. 

But the knock came again 
My window was wide; 
I climbed on the sill 
And descended outside. 

Back over the sill 
I bade a "Come in" 
To whoever the knock 
At the door may have been. 

So at a knock 
I emptied my cage 
To hide in the world 
And alter with age.

Robert Frost