It’s smooth, curvy, and cold to the touch,
It’s an unimaginable feeling that escapes in an instant
Because one day it’s there, the next day—gone.
Only eagle eyes spot it;
Only the earth knows its hiding place.
Under the sea it lays.

It grows up to be secret, so it lays.
It’s the secret to a woman’s heart, yet with a touch
It’s gone from its home place;
Take care of it. It doesn’t grow in an instant,
Save them, save it.
Don’t overuse, abuse, or they’re gone.

Thousands are kidnapped and each are gone.
Where do they lay?
They’re hidden in a dark square place, where no one can see a single one, on one can see it.
No soul can touch.
Suddenly that box gets broken into instantly,
Transported to a new location, yet still not the home place.

Now it’s stuck in one place.
It’s worn around a tan, neckline and as passed by the crowd, gone.
A new figure snatches it, in an instant.
Too tired to shine, it just lays.
Few people later, get to touch
Because now they value it.

So many would fight for it.
So now it’s in a stable comfy place.
No fingers, palms, can touch.
All the humans—gone.
For now, time to recap as it lays,
Thinking back in an instant.

It transports to the past in that instant.
That past were the best days for it.
In that soothing, free, wet, salty sea it used to lay.
That was its home place.
That memory will never be gone.
That place it hopes to one day touch.

This beauty takes years to form, not an instant.
It grows inside a certain place, the sea and the clam nurture it.
It’s ivory white and soft, but once it’s touched, it’s gone.
This stunning, glossy, sphere pearl is tied to others of its kind.
Around the neck of a now wealthy woman it lays.