POEM : Box

Which is full of chaulk.

It's a mental situation.

That deserves an explanation.

I sometimes think, and watch.

The sky.

Why?

Was I so blind.

It was right in front of my nose.

And, I decided to choose.

Something that was bad.

I'm sure nobody had.

It's sad I know.

I broke my back with a plow.

Instead of using my smarts.

I chose to spoke.

But, it's okay.

I feel better now.

Because, you are nothing, but a doubt.

FIN