Due to popular belief, all homosapien life contains a treasure tucked away from the visual sight
to maintain a sense of normal
Most have been battered and ****** in an early tense, future and or present, that has damage the exit route for the treasure to emerge and introduce itself to life
I expressed my treasure that I can recall at an early age
Rapid with my text
Fun and fulfilling, giving everything I knew and thought
But like some, I became distracted. Engulf with the daily society and current events, I repressed my treasure revisiting it at inopportune moments
Some sing with their treasure, cleansing the souls of those who can relate to the words passing in and out of the ear
Some act with their treasure, giving the eyes a visual show of entertainment to please the soul and bring forth joy and laughter
Some create masterpieces with their hands, sculpting and manipulating material to construct beauties only achievable by talented palms
Some use words as myself to express the pleasures and discomforts seen and read about to produce jubilant documents to cure melancholy hearts
Many have gone without ever revealing their treasure, sharing it only in their company, isolated from the rest of the world. No particular reason as to why it was kept private
Few have impressed and obliged the world with their treasures only to be ridiculed and scorned only to praised once death has taken its place
Every treasure needs a muse