Perfect Dark Poem by Kewayne Wadley

When asked, I replied I have a secret if your dying to know.
With enough anticipation I tore nail from wood.
A secret not so much, housed comfortably in a place that no one goes.
Some of the wood dry-rotted, nails now rust.
It still took some prying.
Uncovering a unhinged door in perfect dark.
Nails and wood covering the ground.
When asked what was in there I replied my heart.
Her eyes immediately searched the dark.
Still nothing could be found.
When asked again, I told her that if she looked in the mirror she'd see a clear reflection of it