Sunday, October 11, 2015

the box

it feels
very much like
i'm in a box

he finds me
at the end 
of the day

and he talks
to me and he
praises me

and comforts in his way

but soon enough
the laughter
dies down

the pleasure 
of the words
turns grey

and he remembers
the duties
of the morning

and all he holds at bay

he carefully
puts me
back into the box

and bids
my heart 
to stay

he turns off
what light
he turned on in me

and then he walks away
in time

and then he walks away

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