Not like an onion.
It's not layer after layer,
each one hiding more despair.
It's more like an orange,
each segment
a different section of storage.
Some will have happy thoughts,
others are beaten by harsh weather.
Some are like little butterflies,
snippets of conversations caught.
Not like an onion,
or a snake,
each day a new layer to shed.
More like a lake,
with different thoughts
under the waves to dredge.
Some may be just old boots of memories,
filled with stagnant moments of history,
others could be treasures
that I kept buried to record the mystery.
Not like an onion.
Nothing as simple as that.
Just peel a layer back
and that will answer
any questions you may have.
More like an office full of filing cabinets,
all labelled with obscure
quotes I thought were worth storing,
but if you get into the contents
you may find a world worth exploring.
Not like an onion,
Where once a layer has been discarded it is lost forever.
More like a library, with books you may borrow,
search through and return after view.
All of the pain and hurt still reside
in some of the books I hold inside
but the happiness and light
slides from the sheets
of other manuscripts you find.
Thanks for reading
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