Useless Metal

I was looking for a paperclip

to hold the gas bill to the light.

I felt the heavy, silver slip

of something cold and almost bright.

The street is gone, or renamed now,

the lock was changed a decade back.

I can't remember when or how

I lost the map and missed the track.

The teeth are worn to a smooth slope,

it rattles in the plastic bin.

A piece of metal, a dead hope

that will never let me in.