Scruff and rust
covered a certine keyhole,
With cobwebs and dust,
dirt and fluff.
No one knew,
of the dirty old keyhole,
and certainly not,
of the old man who dreamed home.
Yes, there was a man, behind the old key hole:
Lonely and old,
fridged and bold.
He waited for someone,
to find the old keyhole,
with a key,
that would free,
the old man who dreamed home.
After years,
still no one,
found the old key hole.
And now,
there's no longer,
an old man who dreams home...
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