Boxed

I feel like we all try
to fit ourselves inside of a box.

A simple, square, basic box.

A box where we fit,
try to fit,
or pretend to fit…

But anyway we look at it
it’s still a fucking box.

So are we supposed to stay
inside the box we wind up in?

Or do we work our hardest
to get out of it?

by Categories: My PoetryTags: , 19 Comments

19 thoughts on “Boxed”

  5. Amazingly written Hal….just the other day I had a similar thought….the whys & the whats….the box….the comfort zone….the typed type….the risky world outside the box….the unknown….but then I felt it….if I would stay in the box….there won’t be a minute chance to evolve….it’s hard to walk on fire….but if the body turns into ocean of desire….it’ll dissolve that burning fire….perhaps it’s not easy to completely step out of my box….but taking just a single step out….is one step closer to get out my box….or did I just burn my socks? 😉❤️

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  6. yes its so true we place ourseleves in boxes that dont fit us bt our minds. so well put. We have to learn stop boxing ourseleves from the world.

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