I carry ever close to me A gaudily printed metal box Late property of my father And his father before him Secured unshriven Within the folds of a knapsack Gifted from my closest friend Whose care I find unfathomable. Within its bent and battered walls I keep a precious list of secrets That I may reference on occasion For those who seem quite worthy To own, without prejudice A morsel of my mortal soul. I do not leave these contents ever Within the scope of flighty feet Venture as I might From place to place Country to country Continent to continent Seeking that which to date I have never found, Namely comfort Serenity Consideration Human to human Creature for creature. Amidst the constructs of my mind There is a steel wrapped door Generally kept slammed tightly shut To fend away unwelcome visitors Unwelcome thieves who steal the dreams So carefully chose for gilding there To oft display as stark relief Against whatever gloomy backdrop Might be projected there From out of honest memory.
My list of secrets has innumerable spells Powerful incantations new and ancient To cure all manner of illness Disease or heinous injury Each and every fetid wound That riddles this our unfortunate society That has departed So completely and irrevocably From any contract With any recognizable God.