Chasm of Lost Treasure

One man’s trash is another man's treasure,

all of beauty and worth is held in the eye of the beholder.

Without which, the self value of gold and diamonds lay not more in the heart of the viewed-

than the mind that grows dark and withered,

living and passing the days away, counting and selling the copper of worth. To cover

the limited self expectancy. Leaving all, by shattered crystal tears and torn silken hearts-

To love her.

Lost in sinking, rippling piano keys; a symphony drowning her breath and her music.

Cutting her skin and bleeding ink, gagging on professor’s literary vaccines; making her sick.

Screaming out into the void before her

Her back turned on all who adore her

Tears and raindrops pooling at the chasm two-hundred feet below

A rippling irrational river to drag her under-

If, only she jumps.

The chains and ropes of people's words holding her in place,

As she dips over the edge of being displaced.

All because…  her aspirations and doubts turned to knives

and cut the chains to ropes.

The ropes, by lost dreams

skinned away to ribbons.

The ribbons pulled taunt

into threads

by the expectancy in herself .

One day the string will snap…

And she will fall.

Hold on… to your treasure.