I woke up late, the clock was ticking,
My coffee cold, my mind still picking,
Through yesterday’s scattered thoughts and dreams,
The tangled threads of hopeful schemes.

But then it struck—a sudden freeze,
A jarring thought, a sharp unease—
The keys! My keys! Where could they be?
The door won’t open, not without me.

I searched the kitchen, high and low,
Behind the curtains, in the snow.
I rifled through my jacket’s sleeve,
And found a napkin, but no keys to retrieve.

I checked my pants, my shoes, my hat,
And found a crumpled receipt (not that).
I shook the couch—don’t ask me why—
Hoping the keys would fall from the sky.

No luck. No sound. Not a single click.
I felt my patience start to tick,
Like a metronome, fast and slow,
As minutes passed in silent woe.

I thought of every place I’d been,
The park, the store, the little gym.
Had I left them at a friend’s?
Was there a chance they’d just… pretend
To be somewhere they weren’t meant to be,
Mischievous little things, these keys of mine?

I retraced steps with frantic feet,
From the...