Keys
Keys unlock doors, Keys lock them too. Keys, some are for me; Keys, some are for you. Your keys don't open my doors - My doors stand rooted into the floor. While yours may require a gentle nudge, Mine require a deeper touch. And what a fool was I to think: How a gentle twist of your wrist - Could swing your door open, While mine wouldn't bulge - Even as bones shattered in my fist. And how unfair is it that while - You're destined to unlock twenty and four, I'm stuck way behind, With many, many more. Keys to my Kingdom, Rattle in the chains of destiny; I'd ventured to collect a few, But no, there are too many. And while I stand firm and broken, Before this cold, damn door; All I am sure of is that - There's nothing to be sure! Yes the world is unfair and - There's nothing much I can do about, But chisel my way into making keys; And sometimes on the way - Break down and frown.