As I see through the windows of the shelves you’ve kept me in, you’ve changed. I see that you need me less now, for you’ve made friends of your own. I see you’ve grown, you’ve grown to be what I pictured you to be. But in spite of the wonders you’re doing, is it right to forget me?
Since you’re drifting away and ahead, and discovering more of you, I find it inevitably essential to remind you that my inner strength is still the most powerful. I’m the creator of a million minds and perhaps, yours too. It’s sad for me for I’m fading away, finding new places in the corner of metal shelves rather than hungry minds.
The consciousness that your people need should be fed by me, and I’m continuously eager to implant more aspirations in you. I am seeking more pair of eyes who excitingly seek knowledge, for I have plenty. But also, I have a world of my own to offer. I have a million stories waiting inside to erupt to make way to the people and make memories over cups of tea and coffee. Gone are the days when you used to cherish my company. I don’t have a tongue of my own, but the words that I offer talk more than what people do. They tell not just tales, but offer words of wisdom.
I miss our friendship, as it was when I was awake. The isolation from you feels more like an abduction and makes me restless. These glass windows are more like cages that allow me to see my deterioration. Every day, I see the children peeping through to me wondering what do I contain, but I wish there was a way to tell them that I contain the world itself.
I want to tell you and these children, the tales of wisdom, love, and freedom again. For I have stories to tell, both real and unreal, some witnessed, and some not. I have mysteries contained in myself, but how do I say this if you’re turning away.
I see you finding your time in the television by the door, with your eyes eagerly luxuriating the videography it offers. But I want to remind you, that I’m no less entertaining. For I recited poems, stories, and fairy tales when you were a child yourself.
It saddens me to know that I’m not a part of you anymore. But I wish, that someday and sometime, you’ll pick me up again. You’ll flip through my pages and read my gallant tales of heroism. You’ll read the tales of the characters I created and recite them to your children too. I wish you’ll return. I wish you’ll wear off the dust that’s been settled upon me. I do nothing but wish for your eyes to know more, through me. I wish.
Your lost treasure,