reaching for the sky . the tree does not realize . it is in a box
seeing only part . the story is incomplete . compartmentalized
sometimes, unaware . we put things into boxes . and that’s where they stay
consciously or not . our minds put everything . into its own box
our lives are contained in a series of boxes of our own making
we build boxes where we keep the obedient and keep out the rest
how much of my life is contained inside boxes i don’t even see?
small boxes within larger frames contained within the box i am in
uptown jack 