Life in a box, or why we let ourselves be inside a box
Why can’t we be like Jack who climbed up the beanstalk?
A box where we cannot get out, where we are destined to be
Be it gloomy, ghastly or phooey not at all funny and jazzy
Why, I cannot say, because it’s just what it is for some people
They tried to coax themselves that it’s whimsical and liveable
They’d rather stay inside than venture out of this world
But due to housing needs some rolls will also be unfurled
Doing their prescribed role and duty, day in and day out
Until the time that there are some lights-out and knockout
Was it because of convenience or easier that way?
Or will they wait for the coming of doomsday?
I’d rather venture out and see the world differently
At least I’ve tried and did it freely and with glee