Keys to the Kingdom

I've lived in places with cardboard walls,

 And yellow lines along cell block halls.

Once there was a time when there were keys in my pocket,

 Now precious to me as a lovers locket.

But it's my third time getting out of the pen,

 Is this the time I start collecting keys again?

Can I hope for a life with access and trust,

 Or will barred windows mark this try a bust,

Keys are just tiny little pieces of steel,

 Shaped to move a cryptic wheel.

But they mean that I have, and I can, and I do,

 I can hardly trust me, so why should you?

So many keys to homes, cars & jobs,

 But they're of no use to us homeless slobs.

Such a common item, there isn't much thought,

 Until everyone else has, and you have not.

It's a mountain to climb, a dream to achieve,

 But I can't do it myself, I need other to believe.

Sweet music would be keys jingling in my pocket,

 Life is a betrayed lover, and keys, its locket.

Maybe this time....