treasure chest

Open me up and what do you see?

Do you see a brown box with a key?

Will you take the key and open it up?

Do you see that there’s not much to be took?

It’s not filled with coins and gold,

Or with anything that you can boast,

There’s little cobwebs in the ridges,

They are from my burnt down bridges.


Look on the bottom and what do you see?

Can you see little that remains of me?

Will you take my hand and pull me up?

Dust me down, how do I look?

I’m not wearing the biggest of grins,

And my clothes may need to go in the bin,

There’s little scars upon my skin,

From all of what I call my sins.


Lift me out and what can I be?

Can you see a future coming from me?

Will you mend my breaks and sew me up?

Shake my head and give me tough love?

There’s not much that I can offer,

And I will say my life could get tougher,

Will you stay for the ride and

Love me unconditionally until we die?


You found a box upon a dusty shelf,

You opened it up and found little left.

You did not cry nor look distressed,

That you found an item so depressed.

Instead you took all that you found,

And you changed the frown upside down,

You helped to make those remains grow,

So that there’s now a story to be told.


  • sylviasearcher

    A beautiful acknowledgement of a treasured person

  • Quemis

    This is simple, honest and perfect. Hopeful even.

    This is great.

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