I have a box.
This box has a fox.
I put a box in a box with a fox.
I have a lock.
This lock is for the box that holds a box with a fox.
I have a key.
This key fits the lock that opens the box in a box that holds one fox.
The key that fits the lock for the box that holds the box with the one true fox.
I eye the key with the lock for the box in a box with a fox for the fox
that wishes to leave.
I’ve lost the key for the lock for the box in a box with a fox,
so she’ll never be free.
Ignoring the lost or the lock or the key or the box in the box with the fox,
the cubes or the rubes, that fox.
Poor as she be.
Trapped in a box in a box with a lock with a key that is lost, she chews and she brews.
She swiped to the left and scratched to the right of the box when that fox in the box in a box with a key that is lost was
sadly held by me.
Written by Andrew Satterwhite ©2015