Where the Treasures Are

The starched white paint
was weathered, and flaking
off in feathery bits
that looked like weary souls;
hanging around its
sullen cracks.
Their tapered bodies
peeling up off the old
wooden panels;
reaching for their freedom.
Its antiqued knob,
sobbed in mourn
to be handled.
Just a quick turn,
no key was needed.
There was hesitation of course,
it was expected.
Inside though, behind
the time-worn facade,
that's where the secrets were.
All of the fantastic unknowings
and things never talked about.
But they didn't come easy,
as most secrets preferred.
Oh no, they were way down,
in the dark, down the webby
planked staircase somewhere.
Oh, what beautiful bits
there could be, holed up
in that dense, foreboding
place...down there.
But, who would dare?

The paint chips fell to
its threshold as the odds
were tallied, and the cards
fell in favor of an
old brass latch clicking
closed once more.