The keys to his future lay placidly in his hands.
A jagged gold one for youth
A round passive one for opportunity
And a petite silver one for intellect.
“Unlock the doors” they said.
“Your future is infinite”, they cried.
The sweat of his hands began to glisten
And mix with the nickel
That made up his future.
Too many doors
Too many people
Too many expectations.
So instead of using the keys to unchain his future
He used them to lock himself up.