*mood continues to go downhill*

I can't wait to get out of here and get back to Millersville...

My blog was feeling ignored so here's a poem.

Box

Here I can sit quietly:
Four walls, brown,
And some tape still holding on
(Tightly, so it won’t fall)
Look back at me.

No one sees me, here
Except for the cat, passing by
(She always looks inside everything)
So I can hide, by myself,
In these mysterious depths.

When I close my eyes,
This space becomes my own
And I'm exploring a dark cave:
Water drips, and unseen creatures move,
(But I am not afraid.)

Then I hear a voice calling me.
I open my eyes:
There are only four close walls,
A brittle piece of tape,
And I'm just sitting in a box.

If you don't get the obvious symbolism of the tape, sit and think for a moment; it might come to you.