Perfectly Normal
I put the crazy in a pretty box.
It didn’t quite fit
but I sat on it and forced the lid shut.
You stay in there, now!
(it whimpered a little)
And be quiet!
I locked the box,
and stuffed it in a closet,
in a room,
in a house,
on a road,
in a village
far from everything, secret, stashed away.
Too much trouble, otherwise.
I kept it nicely organized,
and I kept it well hidden.
No one suspects. Nobody knows.
Eventually, even I forgot about it.
So the crazy sits alone,
untouched,
unbothered,
because it knows that
a single match (struck casually)
can undo the box,
the house,
and the whole lot.
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