The box is good, we love our box, we do. We live for the box, the box lives for we, and we have bliss in this. The box is of our making, but we know not how. We are in, they are out, better they just tell us what and how. Just us and our box maketh we. We’re just here, that’s how it be.
The box has sides. Dare not take the sides, for they hide us well from that conflict and this. And the sides have no cuts for us to peek thru and out, and we know this is good for us, not seeing. A drawing on the left side gives us our looking, and it’s good, even changes at times.
The box has a bottom on which to stand, but we prefer to lie upon it. They say the bottom is weak, and we believe, and distribute our weight evenly. The top, well, that’s the best of the box. It’s blue like sky, makes us free and open, like we like to be.
The box is good. Cannot ever leave, but we are free, in this box, are we.