Forgotten Access

I found the bag behind the spare

while looking for a jump.

The smell of old and sweaty air

came out in a heavy lump.

The dial is scratched and black,

turning only one way now.

I tried to find the sequence back

but the gears won't allow.

Birthday, address, the day we met—

the shackle won't even twitch.

A heavy piece of steel regret

tossed in a roadside ditch.