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On Top
I run my fingers through my hair,
Finding what I am looking for,
I pull my hand away,
Grasping a simple miracle ,
The Bobby Pin
I take it in my sweaty hands
Pulling it apart
Into a straight line.
No longer what it used to be
Smiling,
I observe my invention,
The lock picker.
So simple.
Concealing its talents
To the human eye.
I bend down on my knees,
Peering through the key hole
Wondering if my invention will work
In my greatest time of need.
Carefully holding the tool
I slide it
Straight into the key hole.
Now it is my turn to work.
I press the tool into the door
The handle stands its ground
Every time I twist it
Once
Twice
Three times
Its mocking me
Teasing me about locking myself out
I repeat the process,
Again.
At the final stage I say a prayer.
Click
The doorknob turns
Success
I have triumphed over the door
The human has taken their rightful place
On top
Triumph sings in my heart
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