Day one, I am mister big man and I am
Prepare to take anything that they bring.
How hard could this really be.
“Hello out there. Can I get a rest room break?”
“So you have joke I see,”
A voice screams back at me.
“lets see how funny you be
Tomorrow when you figure out this is not fake.”
“Well if this is real, then there must be a mistake.”
“No mistake. You are the one we are after.
Don’t get scared now. Keep going with your laughter,”
The voice smirked as he walked away.
I passed out, and when if woke up it was another day.
Day two, still lock in this box
I have this awful itch that I cannot reach
The voices in my head now starts to annoy me
They torture me with lies.
Telling me I’m free.
“Free! Free! Free! From what am I free?!
This very small box is where I seem to be!”
“ This very tiny box is where the demons grow
And it will be your home, if you don’t
Tell us what we need to know,”
Once again the outside scream a voice.
"Talk now or later it is your choice.”
Day three, I began to smell myself.
A smell I have never smell before.
And would you believe there
Is knocking at my door.
It is my grandmother
But she died five years ago.
“Grandma, what are you doing here?
Did I die in the box and you come to take me there?”
“Grandma, speak! Have you anything to say?
Please tell me you come to take me away.”
“Your grandmother can’t help you now,”
The outside voice intervened.
“I’m your mama now
Hope you understand what I mean.”
Day four, I am hungry, beaten and broke
Still don’t know what they want.
And this is no joke.
“let me out I cried.”
For real, like a baby I cried.
Me, mister big man
I have endured as much as I can.
“Are you willing to talk?” said the outside voice.
“I’ll say anything you ask. What ever, your choice.”
“Just remove those lock
And let me out this box.”
“No not today, you are not ready yet.
One more day in the box.”
This time the outside voice sounded upset.
Day five, now I don’t know who I am talking to
Grandma stop by, and mom did too.
Dad sat awhile and we had fun
Until a stranger came over carry a gun.
He started asking me questions
But answers I could not give.
He fired off one round
Then he asked me did I want to live.
“Yes ,” I replied. “please take me home.”
“The people in that box, they want leave alone.”
Home? Take you home? You are home I’m afraid,”
The stranger did reply.
“So get used to that very little box
Because there you shall die.”