Potential
I am simple and strong
I am neither good or evil
For I do not choose my burden
Or even how I will carry it
That is done by the stranger's hand.
I will with treasure tarry
Across plane, train, and ferry
To bring my payload
To expectant signatures.
Sometimes I am rushed
Sometimes I am empty or full
To the point my corrugated spine
Bursts and holds no more.
I am not good or evil
I am only potential,
If all this and more is true
Of me a cardboard box
What does that say of you?
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