I stay in a box
It has walls floors and ceilings
Made from cardboard
To keep in your pocket
I will lie straight
Like every other soldier
That I will wait and be waiting
for you to open yet again
to choose me from so many others
to pick me up from nowhere
Strike me with your gentle touch
To set my head ablaze
An open flame
to light up your darkness
That I will burn in every fiber
till I am black and scoren
left to smolder in your ashtray
Sep 25, 2025
Sep 25, 2025 at 2:02 AM UTC
I stay in a box
It has walls floors and ceilings
Made from cardboard
To keep in your pocket
I will lie straight
Like every other soldier
That I will wait and be waiting
for you to open yet again
to choose me from so many others
to pick me up from nowhere
Strike me with your gentle touch
To set my head ablaze
An open flame
to light up your darkness
That I will burn in every fiber
till I am black and scoren
left to smolder in your ashtray
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