I am a man living in a house made of boxes
some are posh, others are bedraggled, anything to keep away those **** foxes
I started with a base build, long and robust, its where I have my open window above
only a square mind, it couldn’t be too big although it’s what I’d really love

No corridors or an upstairs en-suite
no no no, not in this hovel, now that really would have been a treat
The big names placed accordingly out there on the front entrance
Amazon to Harrods, Waitrose to Marks, leftover Poundland to build my fence

The roof a leftover roll of industrial cellophane wrap
my outdoor toilet just by the tree, a forest en-suite but no basin or tap
cooking can be a pain as a fire really could spread
a front room so small I eat my dinner from my bed

Now don’t let people tell you you're just some smelly old ***** as you are not
it's just a wrong decision I made in life, now this is how I survive and to camp
the boxes build a structure of life that is not always sturdy and stable
but if that’s how my life went, now I’m just bottom of some table

For this is my home
my refuge
my rest
my result

Remember, we all live a different life, just be grateful for what you have

The Box House

JJB