My New Treasure

Sitting in an old shelf in an older house,
Dust collecting in every crack and crevice,
In disrepair and missing parts,
No one ever looks at the bottom shelf.
Just sitting, watching other treasures leave you behind.
You see another pair of legs appear in the doorway,
Crouching down a girl stares at the old painted wood,
Brushing some dust off, she turns to wind up the music,
Despair as nothing is heard.
She walks off, just like the rest.
Later she returns again,
Picking up the old box and an older doll.
Downstairs to the cashier,
For once being cleaned and cared for,
Once again having music come from the ebony wood.
Being treasured by loving hands for once again.