Keychains On Collarbones

I am trying to find the backdoor From this solitary room The silence is oppressive Shadows paint the walls with gloom. The entrance stood wide open I walked in feeling free I was naïve and unsuspecting When you pocketed the key. I heard a loud jingle As you sidled across the floor Then you slipped through, to pull the latch And boarded up the door. You claimed to be a man of virtue One of honour unsurpassed But those keys that fill your pockets Are not just tokens of your past. My heart is held a prisoner In this empty, lonely space I wonder if this missing key Is a bead on your necklace?