A Box Poem by Gangadharan nair Pulingat..

There he carries a precious box
A precious box hided somewhere invisible
Full of articles but not to read
Full of write ups can be told
The box is a beautiful one
Lot of carvings and ivory color
Sometimes the color is changing to red
And the box is full of precious gifts
The world him the the gifts to keep
And carry over to the life hereby
There when the end comes the box becomes empty
The precious article being the memories of past
Some in miserable way he obtained
Some in happy way he earned
The box is a beautiful one in look
The carvings are the truthful worlds of life
There the box is invisible to others
The precious one he keeps together always.