Till someone "leaves a key" refers to both leaving a clue, as well as a key which opens doors. In the physicality of the object though there is a meaning that is common, both unlock things in lives that we need to be unlocked. This reflection about locked things and finding a left out key was drawn from the need that I see myself and other struggle through, whether is it personal or professional lives we feel the urgency which grows time and time again. It is in between this hidden nature of things that we look for clues, and maps and roads back. We find solace at end of weeks and find comfort in sitting quietly for a while sometimes. I wonder if it would be easier to ask sometimes, just leave me with a key, leave me with answers, clues and something without mystery.
Leave me a Key
Sometimes when I feel you are locked away from me
I wonder if you could just leave me a key
And draw me a map to find my way to your home
Where you are with your thoughts and yet sometimes alone
Leave me with a direction , I will play the part I need
And somewhere in between I hope you will somehow pay heed
When Friday wasn't long enough, for the week to end
And yet the last thing on my mind was something hard to pretend.
Walk with me to the end of nights and to the door,
Retrace your footsteps where you stepped in before
You were eager to solve the mystery, you would begin with the last page
And yet the memories in your head, your thoughts refuse to age
Leave me with just a thought, till the night draws to a close,
When the time I get to write, was almost the time I chose
We are stories with the last pages missing, I stole them just for me
Till I found the map you drew to home and yet somehow lost my key.
Leave me a Key
Sometimes when I feel you are locked away from me
I wonder if you could just leave me a key
And draw me a map to find my way to your home
Where you are with your thoughts and yet sometimes alone
Leave me with a direction , I will play the part I need
And somewhere in between I hope you will somehow pay heed
When Friday wasn't long enough, for the week to end
And yet the last thing on my mind was something hard to pretend.
Walk with me to the end of nights and to the door,
Retrace your footsteps where you stepped in before
You were eager to solve the mystery, you would begin with the last page
And yet the memories in your head, your thoughts refuse to age
Leave me with just a thought, till the night draws to a close,
When the time I get to write, was almost the time I chose
We are stories with the last pages missing, I stole them just for me
Till I found the map you drew to home and yet somehow lost my key.
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