The Lovely Box

This box and me, we got a thing going on 

Funny, I don't remember asking for one 

Yet the heavens above granted me one anyway 

I don't even remember stepping into it  

It just sorta happened 

Sneaked up on me you could say 

Kinda like death in that I would never know when it was coming 

Or would I have the unfortunate pleasure? 


Would it take me by surprise? 

Or maybe, considerate of it, 

Stand outside my door, knocking. 

And then, pause only to knock three times more. 

And maybe I'm not swift to answer, with my procrastination of sorts, 

It may even feel so inclined to ring the doorbell. 

Either way, it's coming. 

Much like my empty box , a package I never wanted to receive. 

My box in which I reside against my will, shakes, with floors that quake, 

And if there'd been windows, the glass would've surely consistently shattered 

Creating a silence all its own of violence 

Yet never granting me a breeze. 

This box and me gotta thing leaving me breathless, shallow soul having 

And to wake each moments for I know no time here 

I stretch my limbs as if the were wings to check and see if like I'd thought in my state of paranoia  

The walls had closed in on me. 

If only I'd be so lucky 

But I'm not, I'm in a box 

Waiting for superman to come me 

Only to realize that he........... is me 

And without cape



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