My Box

Image Source: Google Images

I live in a box.
My box is not like other boxes.
It is not symmetrical
Like a geometrical shape:
Cylindrical, cuboid, or cube.
It is not asymmetrical either,
You know, the irregular kind?

But it is a box;
With a floor and a roof
And walls.
Pretty walls.
A two-way-mirror like walls
Artful walls.

It has no windows.
And no doors.
No cracks, no crevices,
Just walls.

On some days, I wish
If only my box
Had not been mine
But someone else’s.
Or, had my box been
Differently shaped,
Nothing would have
Been the same.

It is music, which opens
Secret passage ways,
Which lead me to everywhere,
Except outside my box.
It is one adventure
After another.

I have learned
To love my box,
Travel to the places within,
Find new adventures
And new love too.

On some days, I wonder
If one life time
Is enough to understand
This magnificence
That my box is.
No matter where I start
Or where I head,
In the end,
I return to my box,
My home, sweet home.


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