"The Box" Poem by AB ~

It was dark,and his eyes, in the shadows,
Glowed like hot charcoal,
And his words cracked, as he tugged on his beard,
As smoke from his rough mouth rolled.

It is magic he said, worth more than gold,
And its likes you never will find,
It will make dreams come true,and it's up to you,
But it is one of a kind.

I felt my heart shiver, and my cold fingers shake,
As I pulled from my purse what I had,
For his beady eyes gazed, and he didn't seem sane,
So to leave with my life, I was glad.

I was sure he'd run off, when my money he had,
But he pulled from the shadows a box,
It wasn't much,and it weighed in my hands,
Like a chest, filled fully, with rocks.

Then he pocketed my coins, dropped his cig,
And he quickly slipped out of sight,
The stillness brought chills, for evening had passed,
And the moon, overhead, glistened bright.

Not a second, I lingered, for the streets were not safe,
And the next meeting might wield a knife,
For the beggars, and thieves, were hardly polite,
And I'd no gold, to barter my life.

My quarters weren't far, not a palace I had,
But a room at an old run-down inn,
And although, it was damp, and shared with rats,
It was paid for, and hardly a sin.

I had worked in a yard, loading ships late at night,
But now, worked a small shop by day,
Selling trinkets and cloth, and though it not much,
And the owner was kind with my pay.

The light from the inn chased back the night,
And I felt ,safe at last, close to home,
I promised myself, that never this late,
In boredom, the streets would I roam.

I'd forgotten of my buy, tucked in my coat,
Safety was first on my mind,
But the smell of sweet snuff,and it sheer weight and size,
Was more than enough, to remind.

My room was lit, with a rusty old lamp,
And I cursed at my own foolish mind,
For walking at night, losing my rent,
And leaving a light lamp behind.

I loosened my coat, and I took out the box,
And I shut tight my broken slat door,
In my one room I knelt, close to my bed,
Setting the box on the floor.

What a bargain, I thought, not worth my week's rent,
With my eyes feeling quiet close to tears,
Too manly to cry, I wiped my cheek,
And tried to push back my fears.

I lifted the lid, and jumped back with surprise,
The box was not rocks, like I'd thought,
I did nothing but stare, my eyes must deceive,
For I couldn't believe what I'd bought.

All my hopes, the box held, all my dreams had come true,
I could see my children, my wife,
My future was all I had wished it to be,
What I had was a wonderful life.

In a flash, it was gone, sucked back in the box,
But a feeling of peace I now owned,
In silence I stood, too dazed to move,
Once again, in my room, all alone.

What magic, I thought, or is this a dream,
It's visions still stuck in my head,
But I was awake, on the floor was the box,
Near my feet, at the foot of my bed.

Empty, it sat, there was nothing inside,
As it's shadow danced plain on the wall,
And I lifted it up, and now it felt light,
Like a chest, with no rocks at all.

I pulled tight my coat, flung open the door,
And fled my tiny, stale room,
Into the night, with no fear at all,
I plunged, like thread through a loom.

Down to the docks, where I'd worked many nights,
When life had been worse than this day,
And near the thick ropes, where boats were tied,
I tossed the box far away.

As it disappeared, beneath the dark waves,
The waters flashed bright with a glow,
The sea splashed my face, and the wind bit my bones,
The box sank in the depths, far below.

Standing in disbelief, of what I had done,
I heard a laugh, break the night,
In the shadows, he stood, with his cigarette lit,
And smoke curling thick through the light.

His eyes growing thin, he bent to the ground,
And pulled my wage from his boot,
Tossed back my coins,and gave me a grin,
Like a pirate, sharing his loot.

As the shadows consumed him, I heard his voice say,
Don't worry, your dreams will come true,
I too looked inside, and indeed, you were there,
You see, now your box, is in you.

"Sing Your Song" by AB ~

Sing your song, I'll listen,
It's your unique, to you,
Everyone, has their own version,
To them, their song is true,
As we grow are songs change,
Deeper, steady, strong,
No one's song is perfect,
No one's song is wrong,
All have imperfections,
Beauty has it's flaws,
Roses have there thorns,
Kittens have there claws,
One alone's, a solo,
Two's duality,
When the whole worlds singing,
We'll live in harmony.