The Box

Ever does the box sit staring,

holding what she wants the most.

Tempting souls with understanding—

fleeting knowledge, like a ghost.

 

Behind the keyhole, steeped in darkness,

lurking just beyond her sight,

the yellow box stays locked regardless;

ode to owner’s stubborn spite.

 

So there it stays, its contents hidden

from the world’s most watchful eyes.

Waiting for the un-forbidden

to wrest from it its precious prize.