The Old Box In Storage

By Nidhi Narayan

The old wooden four by four inch box

Torn, creaky and broken

With its insides all emptied out

Finding ways to part with its fixture

Trapped is the light that seeks fresh air

It gets nothing but an unsurmountable care

For the life inside is slowly draining out

Its planks weakening due to doubt

Taking a step forward it seeks comfort

But the care ranks below the love that needs effort

Will the new storehouse be filled with pansies?

Into the real world or an imaginative fantasy

Perhaps the box should remain inside and trapped

Or be out in the quest for a similar one

What if it finds a bandaid to cover its wounds?

But mostly it will only be a gunk of lies in tragic ruins

By Nidhi Narayan