Boxes

Our shapes are soft.
Our edges round.
The boxes will morph,
and keep us bound.

They will push us.
They shut us in.
Don’t put us in a box,
don’t let them win.

We wear boxes everyday.
We shield our hearts.
From the pain we dread,
emerging in tomorrow’s dark.

A false hope.
The box is a curse.
Stealing our joys,
it preys upon our mirth.

Throw away the boxes.
Be just who you are.
Let not it stop you,
from following your own star.

~Mark Schutter ©2015

A short simple poem about how we so often allow others, the world and the culture to define who we are and what we do.  Thus, the boxes we use to insulate and define ourselves based on someone else’s terms.  We must believe in who we were created to be and follow that destiny.

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