I’ve got a box,
A small copper thing covered with aged patina
That clings and clangs like demon fangs
As I drag it on rusty chains.
I’ve got a penchant
For slimy pulsing treasures;
Stuff my little box to the brim.
Each with a price,
Each a pulsating reminder.
For each treasure I find
I leave a piece of myself behind.
Always leaving the other for the better,
While I limp away with my beating box of treasure.
There’s only one I truly desire;
The one I traded for my foolish dreams.
I’d gladly give every bloody gem
In my pounding box of treasure,
If you’d only give me the one I need to survive.
I’m afraid I no longer have the price to pay
For hauling this bleeding box of treasure.
Go read some of the posts over at The Perfectly Imperfect Bunch, we have some good ones up this week!