THE BOX

The box is closed.
I know that you will not come.
There is no wind, no lights, no stars.
Your eyes might fall apart
I know that you will not come.
The darkness from the sky
comes down with marble drums.
The celebration is going to start.
I know that you will not come.
Deans, nuns, mum and dad,
will shout fully proud.
I know that you will not come
full of anger, it is so sad.
Trees, leaves, burning on the sea side.
The moon enhances the night
in the box with no dreams, no love.
I am cold, cold, cold.