i had a box, twas given me way back when i was young

i’d open it, when oft alone, and inside there was hung

my hopes and dreams, my future plans, my talents great and small,

i showed it once, to a friend quite close, and he said “build a wall!

around your box, strong and high, let no one see inside!

put it away, i implore you now, take it now and hide

it far away from the world, where no-one else could find,

for the things you have put inside the box could be twisted most unkind

by dirty crippled others whose souls have withered tight

who take the greatest pleasure in wronging every right. “

so i put my box under the bed, and there i let it stay

i locked the box, and out of fear, i threw the key away

now all my thoughts are safe and sound, and all my dreams secure

and all my talents, great and small, and all my hopes are pure.

to further hide my secret box, i put on a cold afface

i rebuked advances, turned from love to keep my secret place

hidden down inside of me, behind my cold drawn face.

i write this on my deathbed, long and lonely years from now

i would have shared my hopes, my dreams, but i sadly knew not how

to open up my little box, to free my soul, to share

and now i die, afraid, alone, with no-one here to care.

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