You will be chased down a dark alley,
hallway of tin trash cans and slimy brick,
shadows scurrying from you
as you run.
At the end of the alley, a metal door,
Your ring of keys in your pocket.
The brass one with the squared-off top.
You could never remember what it went to,
but now, you know. It fits.
You knew to keep it.
Hurry. They're coming.