The story of Jack (in the box)

Do you see that red, square box?

that innocuous piece of wood?

it’s been my home and my prison

I wouldn’t stay there if I could



I’ve been squatting in that thing

under a painfully heavy lid

If you opened it and slammed it shut

It might be the meanest thing you did



Every time the lid is pried open

I pop out like a cork and stare

Even though all you’ll see is a painted smile

You might glimpse the pain, if you care


I’ve been doing this for quite long now

There’s never really anything funny 

I don’t know whom to pity more, you or I?

Who is really here, the dummy?


This- is sadly, how I live

doomed to scare off all my friends

followed by surprised peals of glee

And then the sordid joke ends


People say it’s a cruel game

But that’s  ole jack’s way

he has to cheer em up when they’re sad

Left afterwards on a lonely shelf, to stay


There will come a day you know

when there will be no surprise

The lid will open dramatically, to reveal an empty space

No one will greet you in mirthful cries


The joke will be on you, visitor

this box will not torture Jack

the springs won’t tether me, then I’ll really bounce

and then never ever, come back


Published by: Abby

Abha is a final-year law student; She's a trainee family law advocate, a virtual speaker on sexual violence and a volunteer at the local legal aid cell. She enjoys listening to indie rock, reading romantic thrillers and eating Chinese food. She also loves her dog, but suspects her dog isn't too thrilled about that.

Categories Abstract Ideas, PoetryTags, , , , , , 3 Comments

3 thoughts on “The story of Jack (in the box)”

  1. Nice post. I learn something totally new and challenging on sites I stumbleupon on a daily basis. It’s always interesting to read articles from other authors and use something from their websites.

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