It’s not a Key

I saved a key from a precious place, never intending to ever go there again, but knowing that I could had been a comfort to me.

Today as I rummaged through all of my saved treasures, I realized that that house had been torn down, and the key was no longer a key to anything, anywhere, any time…

A quiet sadness, faceless and without form follows me about, dragging its feet… and I await that sadness’ departure.

Soon that sadness will join the distant dim sorrow where my mother and father lay. My Grandmas and my Grandpas, and all those things that are no more.

And the future Yawns open wide to swallow all, ‘til even I will be no more than a memory, with no key to reach me ‘er