Looking through the wooded knot, it’s a keyhole to a door I can’t open.
The soothing scene in the distance is a dream I can’t reach.
I don’t even see you there, in the waves, or on the sand.
I think you’re there in the scene, or is it my imagination?
Our dream was to be there together.
Why do we do this to ourselves, dream the impossible?
It’s a beautiful scene, why does it trouble me so,
I knew it couldn’t be true, I knew we’d never be there.
Looking through keyholes, my only wish is to be there.
The Bag Lady 
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