Those Dreadful Boxes

I have a small attic,
that stores five boxes;
they have been labelled and
I don’t let them fall.
Many times I avoid,
But, sometimes on and off,
I go up the attic
to meddle one or all.

Boxes that contain danger
are labelled Ego and Anger,
When I flip open its cover
and drop it down the shelf;
A scene that I create
Makes me a fool of myself!

All time people crash
Into the box called Ego
You'd think they'd learn
Sometime, it isn't easy to let go
Knocking over the box of Anger
Spilling its contents all over my mind
As my senses lose all direction
And my normal voice is tough to find

If people don’t behave
The way I would expect
The rules that I enforce
They fail to respect
My ‘Ego’ gets shattered
My ‘Anger’ knows no bounds
My senses lose direction
Normal voice cannot be found.

I quickly shut the boxes
Of ‘Ego’ and ‘Anger’
Peace returns once more
My tranquility out of danger.



I stare at other three boxes
Of ‘Attachment’, ‘Lust’ and ‘Greed’
Dreading its effects
of commotion on my deeds.
If first two were harmful
I imagined the rest
I decide not to meddle
And subject myself to test.

So, once again I seal them,
Those five dreadful boxes;
Pushed them into the attic.
A little bit more behind;
Than where it was placed
At the back of my mind.