You can box up my things:
articles, junk, teddy bears, and music.
You can box away my books and clothes,
my photographs, my toys,
But you can never box away my heart.
You can’t put the memories in four squares,
store them under the bed,
or in a closet.
They won’t sit and get dusty under your care.
You can’t close the lid on my emotions.
You can’t ship away my fears and pains.
You can’t tape down the lid to my life.
You can’t box me up,
trap me in a corner,
and leave my mind to gather cobwebs.
Do as you like with all I possess,
But you will never box me up.