My first key had no keyhole
but I felt grown up anyway. I had
responsibility now, and secrets
though even I did not know what
lay behind its lock. I would play
with my parent’s keys and ask
them to tell me stories about
each, this one opens the
door to work, where things I
wasn’t quite grown up enough
to understand were done so that
I could have Frosted Flakes and
new shoes.

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