There’s an Old, Rusted Key

There’s an old, rusted key, so fragile and worn
Thinks if it’s used one more time, it will be its last turn
“I’ve tried tons of doors already”, the key wants to say
And with each and every time, kept rusting away

“No doors have worked”, the key did protest
“And the more that I try, the harder it gets”
It thought it’d be better, if it was locked in a drawer
So it couldn’t possibly be so disappointed anymore

“Just melt me down!” The key often cried
“Let me cease to exist with an ounce of my pride!”
The key was convinced that things wouldn’t improve
It had no more hope, didn’t know what to do

It made one more decision, to try one more door
As it struggled to get itself off of the floor
In that one final moment, where everything ceases
He turned his last turn and crumbled to pieces