My Emotional Toolkit

When I was young
I tried to learn life's lessons while I played
Gave tongue to simple questions
And listened hard to answers
With all the respect that could be paid

Hung on parent's sage advice
And even when repeated
Earnestly I listened twice

Now aged two score and more
I understand the reason
For all the messes that I made:

I learned almost nothing in that season
'cept how to sulk
And how to piss off friends in bulk

And though I am a child of fools
I merited
The harvest of my un-society

Of all the living tools that I inherited
The only social ones
With which
I regularly played

Were a pair of tweezers
And a hand grenade

Building a Box

Boxes always make me think of four

So when I made a flower box
Those are all the sides I used
A back a front
Both long
A side another side
Both short

All fourness nailed together at the corners
It looked  a proper box

I filled it with soil
Ready for seeds

This would have all been fine
Except the box was in the wrong place

And when I moved the box
The earth stuck to the ground
Instead of the box
Because earth prefers sticking to the ground more than anything
Which is why that is where you usually find it

And this may be
Why gravity is

And boxes are not four