He forgot where his own keys were;
Asked of me where they were,
Answered from mine: which?

Though so many keys in life,
Yet only fewer keys to home,
Lingering in this, beside me sat:

Friend, I had no keys because no
Lock was ever unlocked for me,
Yet am determined to unlock them.

Craft yourself that lucky key,
Allow me to assist you,
This is indeed our purpose,
But I am sorry to inform you:
I know not the ways of your life,
Nor do I know which locks to unlock;
I certainly don’t know how to make keys.

And asked of me how that was so,
Through which my weeping response:

All keys are duplicates of the locks there never were.

Category:
Mysterious, Nature, Poetry, Works
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