On Top

I run my fingers through my hair,
Finding what I am looking for,
I pull my hand away,
Grasping a simple miracle ,
The Bobby Pin

I take it in my sweaty hands
Pulling it apart
Into a straight line.
No longer what it used to be

Smiling,
I observe my invention,
The lock picker.
So simple.
Concealing its talents
To the human eye.

I bend down on my knees,
Peering through the key hole
Wondering if my invention will work
In my greatest time of need.

Carefully holding the tool
I slide it
Straight into the key hole.
Now it is my turn to work.
I press the tool into the door

The handle stands its ground
Every time I twist it
Once
Twice
Three times

Its mocking me
Teasing me about locking myself out

I repeat the process,
Again.
At the final stage I say a prayer.

Click
The doorknob turns

Success
I have triumphed over the door
The human has taken their rightful place
On top

Triumph sings in my heart