I’m staring so hard, at this polished old key.
Well used and with history, but why come to me?
Intriguing and battered, so where does it live?
A lock’s to be opened, so come on key, give!
Spill beans, your existence, from where does it stem?
I’ve bunches of other keys but you’re not one of them
What tapestry has been woven, what’s your family tree?
Could it be that for ever you’re a mystery?
Do I leave you for now, in a drawer there to sit,
Or do I take action and get on with it?
I’m brimming to bursting point now; who are you?
There are so many answers for me to chew through.
So many options: a bank vault, a door?
Oh all this excitement just makes me want more,
Imagination is dangerous at times such as this,
Think long and hard I say, try not to miss.
Scrape the barrel of history, scour the past.
This key belongs somewhere, list of options now vast,
Or should I give up now and just leave it be?
Is it right that I to question it’s journey to me?
I’ll bask in this mystery, riotous imagining my spur,
If there’s a lock out there somewhere, let’s have fate right the blur.