Boxes
Everyone has their box open so wide,
so obviously pinned to their faces,
so easy for me to peer inside.
Even those who keep their boxes closed
foolishly leave their keys close by.
With a simple flick of my wrist,
a subtle creek of the hinge,
I can see their soul.
But not your box; not your soul.
You, the bearer of uncertainty,
you keep your box locked tight.
The gleam of your key is nowhere to be seen.
You, the keeper of ambiguity,
you hold your soul on a leash.
Your heart recedes into the shadows of your words.
So keep your box locked;
and keep your key hidden,
so I can search.
For those actions somehow seem to crumble,
ever so slowly,
the old cement i encased my box within.
And maybe,
some day,
that stone will fall away.
And maybe,
someday,
you'll search for my key.
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These are the things I think about
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Hello Denver
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with a cause Community Member 
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» "Everyone has their boxes open so wide"
» "receeds"
This is a fantastic poem. I really, actually enjoyed it. No wonder you were harassing me to read it lol.
c:
You inspire me to use my own journal a bit more.