James Hunt

England

Minor Fall, Major Lift

Inside a box,
Light creeps inside
In slender shafts
Through tiny holes.
So gently,
Shield your fragile eyes

Behold the dust
Watch it whirl
At the mandate of your tepid breath.
Life inside,
Is somewhat confined
Yet ignorance is bliss

Though you must crave
To escape, egress
Your chances I’d say,
Are inadequate, and sparse
Your wisdom fallacious,
The thinking mind’s become a farce

The encircling walls
Are rough, yet smooth
Nearly lustrous, find you groove
Dwell in the box; grow your golden locks,
Until rapunzel comes, to end
The grating of the aftershock

Hallelujah
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