A box is only alive on the inside,
On the outside
Souls swim round deciding to enter
Or stay out in the open.
Choices become over thought
Becoming almost dangerous to trust instincts,
A simple answer feels high risk
Playing safe turns life into familiar situations
A comfortable uncomfortable,
Layers upon layers of protection
From an invisible inevitable.
It suffocates, squeezes the mind
To the extent of lashing out.
I will sit outside the box
And wonder of the magic
That changes life
Contained inside.
Chris Chant Poetry 