posted: 07.02.00
Poetry is Easy
by Brian Miller.
I found myself a key one day
which I refused to use,
instead I just sat around,
living dead in my youth.

The key oh that key
how it wanted to fit,
yet my lock didn't see
nor did it give a shit.

So the years went by
and the key rusted away,
only when it left
did I raise dismay.

So now I am keyless
utterly alone,
all the gold in my safe
I'll never be shone.

For Danielle.