My key locked itself
In the hope of a return
To what was now a story
Simple and common story
Rainy mornings in cities of people
Now are open spaces where I wonder
About teary people in cities of steel
Within them the past lingers, and the story hides
My key lost itself
Next to a window
On a rainy day
In a town with no past
...And, if I push open again
My window shutters one day
I may tell a story
To a new morning and day
And then
Throw my key away
November 18, 2017
© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2017
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