I am the dusty display that is forgotten in the corner of the room

I am the exhibit that is behind the newer ones, I’m left there obligatorily

I am the stolen facts, the past centuries, the trespassed tombs, the stolen artifacts

I am the rare find, the foreign word and the undeniable crisis

yet I’m passed by for the newer displays put in front of me.

Only to those willing to seek me

To the eyes that read me, who adore me, who enjoy me, who appreciates me

To the ones who seek me, who run to me, who’s not afraid to share their knowledge of me

To those that embrace me, research me, cherish the fact that they found me

I am on display for the world and your eyes to see, hidden behind the veil

Only the seekers of truth will find power in me.