behind the lock and key

the old door

pulled to and held there

by a rusty old lock

 

those who happen upon it,

set back off the main road,

wonder what is behind the door

they peer with cupped hands through the dusty windows

hoping to catch a glimpse of what is inside,

of what is so treasured

and held dear

that it must be kept safe

and away from prying eyes

behind the lock and key

 

not many know

but I do

that there are stories and ghosts

hiding in the shadows

some full of laughter and joy

but far more are dark and sad

and filled with mourning

and best left as undisturbed

as the dust on the shelves and floors inside

 

left just as if someone got up in the middle

of their day

and would be back directly

only now they are almost all gone

and only those of us left who know the stories

and the dreams that no longer breathe

have the key

and none of us have the heart to go back inside

and get what is best left forgotten

 

some stories are best left untold

leave the dead to bury the dead

and the door to the past closed