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Boxes of Our Lives ~ a Billybuc Challenge

John is a poet and short fiction writer who enjoys collaborating on stories with other writers, and partaking in challenges.

Image by jacqueline macou from Pixabay

Image by jacqueline macou from Pixabay

Billybuc’s Writing Challenge

Recently Bill Holland (billybuc) issued a challenge as follows:

"I’m going to give you three photos below. Those are your prompts. I’m going to ask you to use all three of them in your story. The length of your story is up to you, but it must relate to the photos. And yes, if you are a poet, feel free to write a poem about the photos rather than a short story or flash fiction.”

I usually write a piece of short fiction in reply to Bill’s photo prompts but my muse has a mind of her own and this time I was directed/inspired to write this short piece of poetry instead.

For some reason, no matter how I have tried, I can not download the photos Bill provided. I have therefore found other similar photos to use here instead, even though the poem was originally inspired by Bill’s images.

Boxes of Our Lives

Our lives are full of boxes that we will try to fill.

Some are crammed with valuables, while others empty still.

They’re cardboard and they’re flimsy, and prone to wear and tear.

But we stuff them with all odds and ends, seemingly without a care.


We live in bigger boxes called apartments, houses, flats,

Filling them with people, laying out the ”welcome” mat.

Some live in lavish boxes with all the modern cons,

While others are incarcerated in barred boxes for their wrongs.


Image by F. Muhammad from Pixabay

Image by F. Muhammad from Pixabay

We stare at boxes night and day, like TVs, computers, phones.

Sometimes like we’re in a trance, controlled like unmanned drones.

We drive around in boxes too, getting us from A to B,

A routine that we do each day, like an ant or worker bee.


Try to keep your boxes sorted and easily accessed.

The contents should be neatly packed to avoid unneeded stress.

Even at the very end, when we see the big ”STOP” sign,

Our final place of rest’s a box. So let’s just be resigned.


Image by Dieter Fettel from Pixabay

Image by Dieter Fettel from Pixabay

© 2020 John Hansen

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