Dana Bowen - My Box

I am an escape artist.
Unlike the hapless tragically heroic Houdini I am capable of escaping any trap.
No matter how deeply stuffed inside the box my fear may force me, I can be free.
I can soar the skies like the lightest bird.
I can skip across the universe from planet to planet with my pet alien Prat.
I can jump from one high dive after another into the open ocean completely hidden away from the eye of my fellow man.
I can save every suffering child from the hand of the parents who strike them.
I can change unjust laws with a snap of my fingers.
I am idealistic.
Inside the freedom of my mind I can truly change the world.
However, how do I translate this imaginary world into a reality?
Reality has nothing to do with my life.
My imagination is boundless.
Wouldn't it be lovely to be able to make the flowers grow with the thought of it.
Think of it.
'Grow flower, grow. Bloom for me. Make beautiful huge red petals. Release your scent into the air. Ease my mind and bring peace to my soul, '
A large red bloom appears and spreads open wide on the end of a brilliant thick green vine.
When it is so easy and painless to do inside my head, why even go through the effort of really growing a rose?
The truth is that reality does have it's own rewards.
Doing in the mind alone is never fulfilling.
Fantasy is costing me the real experiences I could have.
Living in constant fear is trapping me inside my box.
Even though my box is well armored and I am absolutely safe inside, it is getting awfully small and stuffy in here.

Dana Bowen

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/my-box-2/