The Key

If I were alone on an island

I would sit silently in the sand.

I would be desperate for survival

yet there would be one thing in my hand.

Neither a hatchet, nor a knife,

Neither sunblock, nor a spear,

Neither a tent, nor a blanket,

No piece of survival gear.

Instead I will have an object

my parents use everyday.

For when they know this object is missing, 

their search would lead them my way.

My parents would have to come to this island,

for in my hand, I would possess a small key.

If my parents ever wanted to get back into the house,

they would first have to come and find me.