On My Keychain
On my keychain there are keys
To what, I have no clue.
“Just throw them out,” my husband says
And that’s what I should do.
Yet there’s a little nagging thought
That someday I might find
The locks those keys will fit and if
They’re gone, I’m in a bind.
For if I take them off the chain
And stash the keys away,
The odds of finding them again
Get lower every day.
At some point in the past, I knew
Just what each one was for,
But like my aging brain cells,
They can’t help me anymore.
Copyright © Ilene Bauer | Year Posted 2023
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