Boxes
We are wanderers
who happened at the intersection of reality and dreams
seeking others to share comfort with
from life's drudgery of encampments and caves
Now everyone lives in a box with a door
surrounded by a box held by posts
contained by concrete pavement shaped like boxes
giving direction to destinations
where we arrive like ants given tasks to complete
receiving payment for so we may own a box in which to sleep
after staring into a lighted box that drains our souls
so we can be sold objects that come in boxes
as we huddle in our masses complaining
about what our desire and anger created
Rather dissolve away at the top of a mountain
scribbling my name on the wall of a cave
near my encampment under a round sky
then to be buried by society in a cemetery filled with boxes
4/17/17
Copyright © Frederic Parker | Year Posted 2017
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