Pieces found inside of a box
Not necessarily made of cardboard
No one ever pokes holes in it
So you can breathe
Or uses appropriate tools
For your expected release
They're stuck for a Time
And that's what starts the change
From a wayward soul
To a still mind
Stuck for a Time
No coming or going
Just sitting
It takes a while
To get used to nothing
Outside of the box
Is always something
Now I'm inside
It's only myself to talk to
Oh, how I can talk
4 hours and hours on end
About things that were
Or could have been
I suppose you could say
I've become my own best friend
It's startling at first
But with no one to laugh it off
I go on just the same
Pieces easier
Without niceties to keep you snug and warm
It's often best
On just a hardwood floor
Peace is one of the few things
That can spawn from nothing
It thrives in that sort of environment
Without anything to dampen its effect
When you're hungry or tired
It manifests the most
It doesn't exist
Without a host to boast to
Peace is never a piece of cake

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