The Key

Rings of cold metal Rigid combinations of truth Only one fits, the clink is definitive The turn is excruciating… expectation of opening doors But deep inside the lock is rusty and the tumblers fail Try again, invasion with another false hope Each attempt weighs upon my soul putrid peeling paint on an ancient door… A rough and failing surface that disintegrates with my touch Tears and hope hung upon a keychain But there inside the door waits only deception For the locked door is not the barrier it seems All this time I have had the wrong key.