Key

I cannot get rid of a key
Even if all the locks have been changed
I never know when
It just might let me in
So I keep a bowl full waiting for that day

-a.r.

 image

~ by April on May 2, 2015.

Posted in Family, Friendship, Humanity, Poetry, Whimsy
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , ,

3 Responses to “Key”

  1. I hope mine is there

    Romantic Dominant said this on May 3, 2015 at 6:20 am | Reply

    • Actually this truly is about a weird thing I have with keys. I cannot throw them out. It doesn’t make sense, and I wouldn’t say I am particularly hopeful person. I tend to be more of a creative realist, pessimist even. But perhaps it is some small attempt at hope or belief. Who knows….

      April said this on May 4, 2015 at 2:26 pm | Reply

    • …or perhaps it is about a fear of being locked in/out and not having the key. That is always another possibility. Where is Freud/Lacan/Jung when you need him? 🙂

      April said this on May 4, 2015 at 2:29 pm | Reply

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