The Box!

a slap in the face of ignorance,
a small fire on a cold, cold night.
the brush in the artist's hand,
the hand that empties the litter box.
the gun that jams,
the coffee that boils.
the prayer of a small child,
answered in his mother's arms.

all i ask, and ever want to be...
forgotten form, formless remembered,
the box that holds the gift!

poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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