Keyless

We're born keyless then given our first key to play with we earn our first key of responsibility to mobilize-to enter things to cage things-to abuse things like a warden with a cluster of keys letting the good in- keeping the bad out or is it the other way around a steady stream of keys. Like a bird-every key sings only a few keep your secrets eventually there is a chorus of keys secrets chirp chirping merrily Most of mine(secrets) are silver or gold some are dirty some are clean only one of them are king but none of them are green none of them are green. We often lose them a mad search commences like a red eye druggie rooting for a quick fix we smile and sigh when we find them hugging them as if they were our children Keys grow old become battered and bent some wriggle off the ring the years deepen we have fewer keys keys are a lot like friends what a relief it must be to be keyless again