Legitimate an Occupation

A poem

A key was handled with the utmost care,
In no rush but to pass over to generations,
A legacy that would live on forever.

Little boys roamed the crowded lair,
Scared of fictitious legal implications,
Threatened by the uniforms by the river.

At times, little boys wonder with a stare,
How all this rendered legitimate an occupation,
To quickly hide from flying bullets and take cover.