Not Just A Box

There's a wooden box in the middle of the stage.

A desk and a chair sit to the side ready to examine the importance of the box.

It waits for the box to do something amazing.

Sing and dance like the humans, or grow and present life like nature.

Though nothing happens and so the desk and the chair qualify the box as junk.

Something useless that the world could definitely live without.

It will never excel or amaze people or anything of those sorts.

After all it's just a box.


That's the point where the world of judgment is more wrong than it's ever been before.

Yes, it is a box, but it's not just a box.

Just is a word that causes limits. It's a word that puts walls tightly around something and doesn't let it grow.

The box cannot sing and dance, nor inhabit life and adapt, but that's because you're expecting it to do something it's not designed to do.

If you need something like a prop for a play, or a place to sit after a long walk, or even something to merely rest your feet on. It is perfect for the job.

If you studied the box more carefully before throwing it away, you'd also notice it is even made hollow so it's light and easy to carry, and their are handles on the side to make it even simpler.

To you it may be a little inconvenient piece of junk, but that's because you are a narrow minded thing that thinks that everything has to be loud and proud and perfect.

Yes, the box may have scratches, but it's because things like this perfect desk and chair to why they have them in the first place.

Even though it does have scratches it doesn't care, because when it is doing what it is designed to do it is happy, and it doesn't want your stupid fancy qualities, because, in it's own petite life,

It. Is. Perfect.