Show me the door

This also started as a writing prompt at a Bards event, but I wasn't as enthusiastic on this occasion.

I know that door.
I've been through it, betimes,
when footloose and fancy-free, gnawing on my own insufficiency.

But when you're through the Shabbat door, there you are:
unchanged; restless.
The Sabbath crowds round with peace and quiet,
frowning at my continued dissatisfaction.
A body may rest, but the mind does not.
Longing and desire lengthen with the shadows,
as satisfaction recedes.