The Bowling Alley Secret
Once the lanes did echo loud,
Now silent, lost beneath the shroud.
The pins are gone, the lights have dimmed,
But secrets here are tucked within.
By tracks that hum with trains that glide,
Where wheels and rails in silence bide,
A sign stands bold, with words so clear,
“No Parking, Fire Zone,” it sneers.
But look beneath, where shadows play,
A rail that guards the passing way,
Where metal bends in quiet grace,
The cache awaits in its hidden place.
Magnetic touch and iron will,
A subtle pull beneath the still.
In the forgotten, find your prize—
The clue was always in disguise.