Boxes

What’s inside?
Hard to say.
Too much cardboard
In the way.

Could it be
Green Eggs and Ham?
I do not know,
Sam I am.

Gigantic tomes,
Made for home?
Garden gnomes
Carved in stone?

Other boxes
Could be there
Or nothing but
Some stale air.

Not all will have
The solid stuff.
Some will hide
Ethereal fluff.

Ideas hidden,
Thoughts obscured.
Fantasies
Of other worlds.

Box it in,
Box it out,
This is what
We box about.

Borders give
Some definition,
Helping us
Explain decisions.

Inside or not
Is black and white,
Simplify
The constant strife.

In my box
Are many more,
Each containing
Four more score.

Nesting in
The exact spot
So organized
I question not

Everything
A box or three
Boxed with boxes
As you see.

Order reigns
These are my tools,
Ordered by
A set of rules.

Keep it straight
Or maybe bent,
No matter what
The full percent.

OCD
Makes rules today
Boxing thoughts
In its own way.

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