The Prisoners Of The Little Box
Open little box
We kiss your bottom and cover
Keyhole and key
The whole world lies crumpted in you
It resembles everything
Except itself
Not even your clear-sky mother
Would recognize it anymore
The rust will eat your key
Our world and us there inside
And finally you too
We kiss your four sides
And four corners
And twenty-four nails
And anything else you have
Open little box
Poem by
Vasko Popa
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