Give me the Strength

"The challenge for man is to accept the things he cannot change,
or to find the courage to change the things he can...."




In a closet without a lock,
which almost any seemingly nice person could access.

On the bottom shelve,
pushed away to the far left side.

There’s this cardboard box,
opened and empty.

Although not very protective to it’s contents,
the thin edges might still cut fingers
of her who opens the box too rapidly.

It only contains some thin, gray wrapping paper,
wrinkled, somewhat torn here and there,
for it has wrapped and unwrapped quite a few times.

My heart is missing, again.

She has taken it,
or maybe I gave it away,
in an absent state of mind.
I can’t even remember.

Can’t think of anyone who would want to steal it,
for it is in no way brand new,
it has it’s share of dents,
scratches and scars.

..


On top of a square column,
in a cube made out of glass,
lies her heart.

I look at it but can not see it clearly,
because the world’s reflections,
with me in it,
mirror from the glass.

I wonder if I could get it,
to have a closer look,
and if I’d like it, and it’d like me,
I might even take it.

I could hit and break the glass,
to quickly take it and run,
but pieces of glass would destroy it,
leaving me with nothing.

I could cut a hole in the cube,
to carefully take it out,
but the sharp edge could cut me deeply,
leaving me with nothing.

I could slowly lift the glass cube,
to try to pick it up gently,
but it could set off an alarm,
leaving me with nothing.

Perhaps only severe heat
from the hart itself
could melt the glass,
but will I still be there when that happens?

..

There on the floor,
I found my lost heart,
desperately jumping
up the side of the column.

It’s exhausted
and features new scratches.
Although it seems to be unwilling,
I pick it up to take it back home.

I’ll put it back in the closet,
bottom shelve,
far left,
in the cardboard box.

I think this time I’ll tape the box shut.

With duct tape.

- anonymous