June 21, 2008
A child
Playing with toys

My heart
Is a dirty old jack-in-the-box
The crux of my life
Hangs on the winding cogs

The toy bursts open
Like a slew of vomit
Vomit of words, feelings, thoughts
All spoken, laid out for the child
Who laughs cruelly - carelessly! - and casts them aside
Simply trash
Left to gather dust for eternity

The damage is done
It seems the vandalism is irreparable
The clown inside sways
Back and forth
A nightmare of face paint and horrors
That stupid, hideous grin
Echoing despondency

The other children
Treat the jack-in-the-box
With care
Still doing damage
Which is inevitable in life
But doing so with tact
Never malice

A row of eager jack-in-the-boxes
Sit in a row
Stretching as far as the eye can see
As long as the child is there
So will they be
So she stands
Busting them open
With little care
Enjoying it
To her it's all a game
A game in which
She is always the winner
She blazes a trail of destruction
Leaving broken hearts in her wake

And yet the original toy knows
That there are those out there
Who read the packaging

So he waits

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