I welcome opportunity.
I’ve had enough of surety,
Enough of laying in my bed
With out of tune thoughts in my head,
Enough of sounding no-where fit.
I found a box. It was not it.
I found a box which could pertain
To be solution not in vain,
A will of nothing to be in.
A boxer, being. Thick or thin,
The atmosphere, though, found
The shelter of a splendid sound.
Silence. And the void of wit.
I found a box. It was not it.
A flower, more, I will be like.
As such I cannot neighbour strike,
I cannot sound like failing test.
It surely will be beating best
The heart for sunshine made and lit.
I found a box. It was not it.