Piles of Treasure Poem

More about Piles of Treasure Poem

In a house down the lane, with a mystery to unfold,
Lived a hoarder so notorious, with a secret untold.
His rooms were filled with mountains high,
Of trinkets, papers, and souvenirs piled to the sky.
Old newspapers, rusty keys, and broken toys,
Filled every nook, brought him endless joys.
He couldn't part with things, he couldn't let go,
His heart would sink, and his fear would grow.
His home was cluttered, a chaotic mess,
But for him, each item was a cherished treasure, no less.
He cherished the memories attached to each piece,
And to part with them, he couldn't find release.
His friends would come and shake their heads,
Asking why he kept things that were long dead.
But to him, they were stories, memories of the past,
Each item held a meaning that would forever last.
Though his house was cluttered and his path unclear,
He found comfort in the things that were dear.
For to him, those piles were more than just stuff,
They were a treasure trove, his story's rough.
So, the hoarder lived on, in his cluttered domain,
Surrounded by his piles, he would remain.
For in his heart, he knew the truth so pure,
His hoarded treasures were his life's allure.