Little boxes.
A box in which I will not fit. You know, all my life someone was forever trying to put me into a box.
The first was the jock stud box. Have you seen me? I could never fit in that box. It would be like putting a bebe pellet in a boxcar.
The second was a student, unfortunately I didn’t have what it took to be a student at that time, let alone a good student.
Then there was the new pecking order of High School. Wow, was that a shock. Never did figure it out.
After school then the Warrior, I was kind of forced into that. Not sure I fit, but it went well for a season.
I didn’t like the box they tried to put me in. I still don’t.
Then there was the preacher box, didn’t really fit there either. I didn’t conform well.
The husband box, well I think I lost that in the warrior box, not sure. But, doing better now.
Dad box, really should have waited until I was much older, children shouldn’t raise children, but better now I hope.
Mechanic, hated it all my life, finely disabled me and still hate it.
Retired box, seems better, so far a bit boring, maybe I can work on it.
Pine box, was ready and willing when heart attack came by, mad at Dr. when he brought me back. Nice place on the other side, really wanted to stay. At 49, not ready I guess.
Pine box 2 , will be ready some day, but for now trying to fit into a new box. Box for life.
And there, not all made of ticky-tacky and there not looking all the same.
Spiritualhypster 