The Key

The Key

Sore knees kneeling
Inside darkened doorways,
Pants worn to threads,
Back aching bending,
Peering through the keyhole
To see the world outside.
Pure light stinging,
Eyes tearing,
Cannot look away,
Trying to piece together
What is on the other side.
Family and friends
Huddled behind you
Watching puppet shadows
On the wall.

Open the door
—You’ve always had the key—
Sunlight warm,
Pure, blinding, hurting,
Don’t recoil, or turn away,
Stand; face the day,
Open the shades,
Fill the house with light.

7/21/17-7/26/17

Original keyhole image is by Storye Book. It was found at WikiMedia Commons  & modified by myself using Photoshop.

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