The Breadbox

Inside my home, out in the open,

Suppression disguised in your view.

We traverse through  time,

Avoiding esteem,

Conspicuous being unseen.

It’s merely a box

Dark, closed off from truth.

Keeping the entry secured.

So much upheaval,

Outside of this box,

Obscurity clearly ideal.

Yes, reaching for those,

That hide in the box,

Would distinctly enrich our discussion.

Nevertheless,

Your approval asserted

Prompts a breadbox

To collect my deceptions.

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