I hold the key
To a lock I should not open
But one
That needs so desperately to be opened

I don't know what to do with the key
It lays there in my palm
The solution to a problem
I cannot be the one to solve

I run it through my fingers
Feel the cold hard steel
That holds
So much power

I have tried to give the key to others
And they use it for a while
But the key seems to always
End up back in my hand

I am glad that I can hold the key
For it is a blessing
But anymore
I know it cannot be mine

I hope someday
One comes along
And unlike I
Able to use and hold the key

But until that day
I will open the lock
When I can
And wait.

(theinkthatspeaks.blogspot.com)