These Keys Poem by Jeremy Ryan Holloway

I wrote this poem several days after I pawned the last acoustic guitar I owned for a drink of fine whiskey. It was No.7 and it cost me around twenty-four dollars after tax. I was sitting in my empty room when I noticed something. I locked the guitar case at the pawn shop as the young lady was taking care of the paper work, then at home, days later... There were my keys! On the floor of my paper strewn room. I picked them up; looked at them, and as I took a sip of ole No.7, I said... 'These Keys... and goodbye old friend.' This was yesterday.