The undiscovered jewel

lays deep in the attic;

a Van Gogh original

buried for generations


It’s there waiting to be found

begging to be found

but no one is

even looking for it


There is no search party

or untamed explorers

trekking through the abyss

of abnormal psychology


but in the treasure chest

of Jungian thought

and Freudian despair

there is a key to paradise


and one even looks for it

Everyone is on

Wall Street pondering stocks

or hiding in Old Macy’s store


and Santa has yet

to make an appearance

but the precious stones

are laying in wait


buried in the basement

hiding out in

the closets of the attic

the diamonds; the emeralds

glisten in wait


It’s all there

but for a moment’s notice

waiting for Ponce de Leon

or whoever else

whoever else, anyone else


and the pirates

search the 7 seas

and the gold diggers

are all heading West


and in the storage room;

forgotten lays

the key to paradise

and no one has a clue

as everyone goes Hollywood

or maybe E. London


thru Beverly Hills

and the Swiss Alps

do the trendy trek

and in an instant

they are THERE

then it’s all pulled away


but the true treasures

lay buried on Library shelves;

the bathrooms of gas stations

the unfurnished attics


it’s the intangible forces

that keep us all bound

together in humanity


that ever so precious jewel

still unseen laying await

and no one has

the key to the attic


no one has the gumption

to search for the answers

in those little unexpected

unsuspected places

where the light of day

usually shines unnoticed



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