Poems That Came From a Beanstalk

Little Boxes

Do you see the boxes
Nice and neat
Spaced so well
Spaced so sweet

They're on that hill
On it's very side
All different colors
But all the same size

They pay no mind
They don't look on
Only do they know
What they will become

They've got it all planned
And they're good with that
They'll sit on that hill
For as long as they can

Sometimes they wish
Sometimes they want
But the boxes just sit
And let their dreams haunt

The green one right there
It dreampt to be blue
But it waited too long
And now it packs shoes

The pink one on top
It had a wild thought
'What if my shape
Was actually a dot?'

The yellow one there
Hiding behind pink
Once had a tear
That it patched in a wink

Sometimes they wonder
What might have been
If they hadn't have ducked
Into the recycling bin

Once in a while
But not very often
They feel so tired
Of waiting for their coffins

They sit on the hill
And sink when it rains
The sun comes until
The moon leaves it's stain

They each have tape
Covering their flaps
Not one is too brave
So they keep themselves wrapped

And I'm sitting here
On the next hill over
Content in my garden
In the rain and the clovers

And if you look below and peer
To the base of my stalk
There's a forgotten pair
Of gardening sheers

I grow every day
While I see them sink down
Their colors will fade
And I can't make a sound

All they have to do
Is ask for my scissors
So they can cut their tape gone
And open their flaps

They'd see what's inside
Their six little walls
If only they'd walk
Down a riskier hall

But these things won't do
No, not to these ones
Their paths were all planned
So why should they run?

You follow your heart
Or same difference, the crowd
And wonder just how
You ended up so proud

Because all you did
Was go through a machine
That taped your lid
And wiped you clean

It sent you out
And set you down
It gave you a route
And where are you now?

Ah, there you are
I see you there
You're the purple one
The tape you wear!

If I could do it
I'd throw my sheers
So that you'd be free
And come over here

But I know you won't
You'll sit right there
And let the hill
Swallow you bare

But that's alright
It's what you want
So I'll grow here
And protect my stalk

While you exist
And I guess you're fine
Because you've been there
Since the machine put you
Through your delivery line