A Rusted Treasure

Just the other day,
I stopped to look,
When something caught,
My eye.

It was old and rusted,
It seemed of no,
Importance. No emotion,
did it hold.

But there was,
Something about it:
Some secrets remained,
Untold.

It glinted,
In the moon light,
As if to say,
"I'm here."

I kept my head,
Aloft, and walked,
by without a,
Second Glance.

Then something,
Tugged at me,
and said, "Please,
Go back."

The object that
I held in my hand,
Was an old and rusted,
Plaque.

"To honor the one,
Who died for us,
To wash away our sins."
It read.

It seemed that,
This solute, had just
Been thrown,
Away.

"How many," I asked
Myself, "Have seen,this
Treasure, and left it there,
To stay?"

"How many, ignored,
This beautiful, monument,
Becuase of it rusted,
Exterior?"

"How many, have suffered,
The loss of never knowing,
This grand simplicity,
This joy?"