© -MFB III
Somewhere deep in the
multi-layered folds of my soul,
buried under the daily
cacophony of mundane and trite,
lies a gathering of words
that squat like jewels unpolished,
opulent opals of thought
not yet uttered in ink form,
the lost arc and loops of
brilliance begging release,
I dig daily and near miss
the valued trove time after time,
over 4,000 shovelfuls of bets
from the alpha side of my brain,
and still no timeless glory
to leave behind me before,
it becomes a buried treasure
mouldering in the stench of my corpse,
again I lift my fingers and
probe the wrinkles of my cortex.
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