The Box, Revisited by Tamara Mclanahan

THE BOX, REVISITED

With thanks to Lascelles Abercrombie
for the original poem entitled THE BOX

The box, it seems, cannot be stored,
Nor adequately guarded o'er.
By gun, or vault, not shield or sword.
For human nature won't move forward.

As Hush-a-Bye learned to its woe,
The box is used by friend and foe.
Both wield its harm to justify,
And therein lurks the biggest lie.

For force is always met by force,
With death and woe its chosen course.
From bloody fields and ocean waves,
The mountain tops, the deepest caves.

Destruction leaves its crimson paths.
Survivors write the epitaphs.
And fertile ground laid bare in waste,
Mass burials performed in haste.

Our history, doomed to repeat,
For war is never quite replete.
At times the box waits patiently,
But always with a fiendish glee.

So heed this warning, well and true.
The box's fate is up to you.
For once it becomes truly sealed,
The Earth can finally be healed.

Copyrighted 2016 by Tamara McLanahan  With thanks to LB for his abiding friendship and boundless inspiration