Empty Boxes Poem by George Krokos

All those empty boxes of our lives
are like those things love deprives.
Our minds and hearts can't bear the pain
if in all we see there's nothing to gain.
And how cold it is without any friends
who don't pursue or share similar ends.

The days are bleak and fleeing past
before our eyes can make them last
and the nights are all needless to say
just like dark shadows of each day.
If we find it hard to make ends meet
thoughts in our mind are not discreet.

Yet life could be better or worse still
when we follow all those who thrill
and captivate us with their own ways
making us believe them as in a daze.
Particularly when we see in their faces
something that we're lacking in places.

How strange it is and so true to say
that life goes on regardless anyway.
It often comes as no surprise to me
when the people around fail to see
we are all living on common ground
and only have empty boxes to sound.
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