The KeyTo The Door

The KeyTo The Door

At 21, I got the key to the door,

But beyond it, nothing—a hollow core.

No heaven, no earth, no sky, no sea,

Just a black hole staring back at me.

No home to shelter, no living room’s glow,

Just an empty shell where hope won’t grow.

Was this key to nowhere, or a passage to hell,

In a world where nothing seemed to dwell?

A darkened emptiness, a shadowed nest,

Where dreams lay quiet, failed the test.

Yet even in voids, seeds may sow,

A spark to light, a way to grow.

Perhaps this key, though cruelly bare,

Was meant to teach, to make me dare—

To build a world from what was gone,

And find my strength to carry on.

Or maybe just to close my eye

From life as I knew, to dark goodbye.

My poem’s deep, but I am sure

The key to the door is not my cure.