Boxes

Look into my box of Hate And tell me what you see If it's loathsome I advise To shut the box It would be wise Sometimes in my deepest boxes I will see some awful things All's the matter I do wonder When the box of Fear I plunder What box shall hold Jealousy A fragment of my glaring eye? When it's worn And all but rotten Shall my box Be far forgotten? Reaching into boxes brings Haunting memory to surface What is broken In my heart Is Shame which Rips my world apart Boxes many loot the ground Contents spilling over me Joy I find To my surprise And to my feet I quickly rise Frantically I search the room Looking for that box of Worry Boxes seem To disappear When most I need Their comforts here A solitary box is waiting In the shadow of the door Shaking it I hear but Sorrow's Cries which bring These tears I've borrowed Numerous mistakes I've made Opening a box or two I look in And it looks out The Guilt Which runs about When a need for Hope comes forth Such a box will shine all bright Filled with an Elusive good what Makes its home In walls of wood Pride is in a metal box Beneath these loose floorboards What I say Is what I mean That some boxes Must stay unseen My exhaustion reaches over And I find a box so plain It's a perfect Sort of square For Love to live Inside of there Constantly I dump this from The box that doesn't close But always down Onto my shoes Falls Courage That I never lose There remains a box to open Which I dread the very most It is scorn Exempt from gain This box of Naught but searing Pain Boxes opened all to me This is where I leave to go At Peace I am hereafter To lay in Fields of laughter