The Shed

Was walking down the road one day when something caught my eye
So beautiful, miraculous, I smiled and breathed a sigh
Twas only how the sunlight fell on the trees ahead
Within a forest deep and thick, it lit upon a shed
The shed was old and falling down, its roof had sunken in
I thought about that worn-out shed and what it might have been
My curiosity was stirred, my longing to explore
Before I knew it there I stood before its faded door
Carefully, so cautiously, I twisted the old knob
The hinges squealed with pain, it seemed, as I felt my heart throb
With cobwebs woven everywhere, my feet froze to the floor
I dared not take another step, but had to still see more.
I poked my head inside the room that felt so cold and still.
I couldn’t shake the shivering that caused that awful chill.
Some beckoning attraction made me peek around…and — no –
my mind would not allow me to believe what I saw low
to floorboards old and worn. Was I imagining? What would
I do? My morals came in questions: Was I bad or good?
I stared at it as if I thought that it would speak to me,
but all it did was lie there. I was anything but free.
I wondered, if I touched it, that police would ever find
me guilty of a crime. Oh, no. I knew myself. Behind
decisions that I make I know the ways that I’ve been taught,
so even all that money in the shed would stay unsought.