Poetic Riddle – What am I?
Here is a riddle I wrote a few years back:
I can hold anything, everything,
But I am nothing all the same.
My treasure remains hidden within a mirror,
No human could ever decipher.
Mysterious, that I am;
Lingering everywhere, common,
Yet secrets hidden from all mortal eyes.
Standing still I shall never reveal.
Though what I hold is not measured with cubed,
My area is squared, but I am not as a square is.
I cannot tear nor fold,
But smash me and I shatter.
My body appears the same, full or starved,
Yet the treasure within will never change.
My treasure, forever etched into my skin,
Unable to be removed, yet still able to be used.
My secrets can only be seen or heard,
Never touched nor held.
Take me spinning, round and round,
And then perhaps light can see.
Unlock my secret and it is yours,
Unlock the treasure that I hold,
Now change it, take it with you and hear my treasure everywhere,
Anything, everything, but nothing all the same.
Answer:
I hold anything and everything,
Spin me, and light will see,
The treasure which is forever etched,
Into, a common, everyday, CD.
