Tossed and Found - a Rhyming Role on the Big Black Hole

"Though this be madness,
Yet there is method in 't."
William Shakespeare
Hamlet (Act II, Scene 2)

Black holes are looming, vacant spots
Where stuff may disappear.
These universal cosmic blots
May reappear down here.

In any place, in time or space,
When items can't be found,
Things disappear without a trace
And leave us all spellbound.

We blame the chasm, the abyss,
The Triangle and spies,
When usually, things we miss
Are right beneath our eyes.

We have a black hole in the drive
With mysteries untold.
It harbors truants: dead, alive,
Long lost from our household.

There is our family pharmacy,
A rolling general store.
This be the stuff of lunacy,
And yet we offer more.

Just reach beneath the seat and see
The treasures you may find:
Loose change, a toothbrush, missing key
And maybe peace of mind.