If you got hold of the key,
That opens the lock,
You could peek outside
And see some sky
Sometimes Blue or Grey
And follow thoughts
That live inside silences.
You would hear ghosts laughing
At love conquered
And memories lost
And shrug at tears.
The simple, kind ones,
The ones that flow freely,
And the cruel ones,
That stay inside
And turn to ice.
But you could also peek inside
And see dreams and hopes
Suspended in time,
Like a child in the womb
Searching for light,
Waiting for you.