The Key


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1. The Key (1)

   The Key

 

   It seems odd

   That God should put so many cells 

   Into our brain

   And then forget to leave the key.

 

   Perhaps unknowingly we use these inner depths

   To lose  the thoughts we do not want

   Or cannot bear to think.

   Conscious before we are born

   Yet we have no memory,

   Unless in dreams

   We capture chance reflections

   That wake us in the sweat of fear.

 

   Perhaps they are the source of inspiration

   That makes man out as genius or fool.

   The sudden understanding that floods across the mind,

   The screaming thoughts that tear into our daily lives

   Unbidden

   Come as from nowhere

   Self- generated

   Beyond our control

   Perhaps Pandora has the key

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