He has a heart of gold
Kept locked away in an iron box,

Curious, I picked at the lock
He lift the lid and showed me,

He showed me what was inside
And my heart beat for his.

You put a little glass box on the table
Said here's mine now show me yours
So I took out a piece of paper
And drew something like a shoestring
Now this is all I've got you see
I don't have very much at all
But this is down way deep inside me
So deep you would die from the fall

This is my box,
home to contrived chaos.
I open and close it
many times a day.

Beside my box
are other boxes
bigger and smaller,
all of them surrounded
by an even bigger box.

And if you left this box
you'd see a field
of boxes
sprawling the land
further than eyes can see.

And how odd is it
--the mere idea--
that all these boxes
adhere to this sphere
we reside upon
like a collection
of living magnets.

Chicken is very good
watermelown *****
xbox one is awesome
I may or may not be a hobo

I am a parody, of a parody, of myself.
I packed myself into a little box,
And once I was done with that box,
I packed myself into an even smaller one.
Scared that if anyone were to discover me,
They would turn away in disgust.

But what have I become, for all my sins?
Just a parody, of a parody, of myself.
Living in a box too small to contain me.
With disgust I confess - I am no more.

Pack of lies explode
        as a match stick  
lighten gasoline.