At the top of a staircase that is both narrow and long,
Is a small wooden door with a lock that is big and strong.
I have climbed these stairs too many times to count,
Each time more determined to finally find out.
The mystery on the other side of the door continues to taunt me,
For I will never be able to open it until I somehow find the key.
I have spent most of my life searching and have still yet to find,
For the only key is lost somewhere deep within my own mind.
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This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
a good job to nicely written poem