Gold Key

March 1, 2012
By Anonymous

Behind the bare brown branched trees,
Around a gloomy and quiet lake,
Past a newly painted gate,
Within a large creep house,
Up in the old attic,
Beneath some very squeaky floorboards,
Among a pile of dust,
Inside a carved wooden box,
On top of a layer of fluffy fabric,
Against a scrap of purple paper,
Into my hands goes a shiny golden key.

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