Conspiring over scuffling shelves
Finding something that is never there
Where she looks and what he took
Look into her heart to find despair
But no tool seems to be able to repair
Without it breaking or becoming scarce
All the labels seem to be out of order
And all the charts have been erased
The navigator is out of place
All these are a connection
The leads to one discretion
Of fighting over something
That never existed
But he lead her on to believe
That irritation can cure a disease
An she was well
And she could see
He hand hurt a little
When she was searching for the treasure
But what seemed erased was no more
Her husband came down the stairs and said
“Welcome Home”