I have been given your permission
To spill my mind
To say all the things I need to say
Even should they rhyme

I dwell in this dark box of hope
A home that leaks no fuel
And I have no mind to say things
To appease the world around me

I scratch across you as though you were nothing
But you are so much more that it scares me
And you tempt me
So I open up my wounds for you to gaze
And feel naked with me

But you do not know me
Nor do you fully understand me
Nor may you ever

Not because I am pitch black
Because I am not
And not because I am other wise
Because I am not that either

But because I dwell in this dark box of hope
And the only light I see
Comes from your eyes

© 4/16/1997
William Grant Preston

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