You're trapped in a box,
No sense of sight, sign of light,
No sound, a quiet so profound.

You can feel even the slightest movement,
Hear your heart pump like a hard stomp in an infinite echo,
And you hear your lungs aspirate with air.

In this box you're all alone,
your mind racing and thoughts pacing,
Imagination going wild.

This box is nothing
But a limit to your mind, its small because you make it small,
There's nobody there because you don't want anyone to be,
You can make this box whatever you desire.

Create,
If you become bored,
Destroy,
If you need more,
Make it so,
If you wish to explore,
You may go,
Open that door,
Let it all flow.

Your imagination can be a river,
Lazy or rapid
Running wild and crazy
Or stagnant and vapid
You hold this power captive
Its your choice to let it flow
Me, I choose to let it happen.

It is power for all
Is yours in its own boring cubicle
Surrounded by four grey walls?
Or is it lucid
Creating dreams and fun
And love, like Cupid?

Imagine
Imagine your world colorless
Without the power of imagination
A tasteless nation
No wild creation
A grey plantation
With no production
all just a bore
Minds are dull
Minds are poor
Burning to a core
All just a terrible bore
And Nothing more.

Let imagination run free
Like a raging instinct
Red, yellow, green, purple, pink,
Colors and life galore in and out of sync
Never let imagination become the dodo or a dinosaur; extinct.