Keys Poem by Jean Bernard Parr

Make a million more metal boxes, keys to open,
wheels to petrol-push, for a million hopes,
for something better than opening a lovers' letter

We made keys to brighten the dulled soul
to promise base metal into gold, make all young
and when the ding-dong is done, from the hot held

million keys, there will be machine tales to tell
but if you believe the buzz from frantic bees
something now is happening unforseen

that unsheens the dreamers dream, to turn
wish-well into cindered and sintered hell;
all is not well in the world of the million keys

that opened our poison boxes, stuff we knew was toxic,
but how we wanted our million boxes! Now, no
wiser than the spinningh fly, there is time left to cry

and shuffle in the porches of the cosmic mansion
preparing to make of this world a closed room
and hurl the key somewhere you won't find it soon