A Box

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The sides are made of paper folded in creases
Stiff, bored, tired and lonely they wait
Never quite holding what it is they want

I lined the walls with every song
The tears of meaning and memory
And the realization of fate

If I could only sing
My life would be so different
But the gifts I have don’t fill up the box

What is it that a man is looking for?
Maybe it’s something more than his gifts
But is there a box big enough for desire?

Everything I want is better than what I have
I can smile but it doesn’t provide comfort
The box carries only false hopes

Everything I touched but passed by means something
Should I learn something new or just remember what I forgot?
The joke among us is that we have mastered our past

I don’t know what I will find
You can look at a hole of your own making
But will you ever discover your true self?

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Comments 3 comments

Joanne M Olivieri 3 years ago

Great metaphor and meaning to this post. Well done.


Joanie 3 years ago

We all have a fantasy life - what if's. But, if we can't accept what IS and make the best of it, finding the best in it, our fantasy life takes over and it is never to be. That's why we read books, go to movies, watch stories on TV - it takes us into another life for awhile - sometimes sad, sometimes scary, sometimes funny. Then we come back to our real life. It's a puzzle and you have to find the pieces to put together rather than leave them all scattered out. We have to put the pieces of our life together the best we can and look at the whole picture to find our way and what is truly important. Complete happiness never happens.


Sunny River profile image

Sunny River 3 years ago from A Place Without A Name which resides somewhere between Fantasy and Belief, just north of Reality

Beautiful poem and thought provoking reflections. A lovely read.

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