A Whispering Key

I finally grew tired
Of Jingly keys,
How many does one
Really need?

Car, the front door
Office and desk;
Others perhaps
Could live in a box.

Storage shed,
Chain on the mower
All labeled now
With neat round tags.

But when it was
All said and sorted,
One dull one remained
Haunting, whispering.

Perhaps feeding
A friends cat?
Perhaps from love
That faded away.

It once had power
To open a door,
Now the door
Is lost.