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That Box Won’t Fit Me…



By Joyce Davis

I don’t fit in that box I just seen you fold
I don’t fit your clay cast or your gray mold
Yes, I dance to the beat of my own drum
This particular taste ain’t for everyone
A pretzel’s life is not the life for me
To contort myself for some else’s sanity

NOPE don’t think so I like being unique
Even though it sometimes makes me an outcast or freak
I’d rather be me; to myself I must be true
I think I’d look pretty silly if I tried to be you
I can’t imagine a lion trying to be like a fox
So, no need to keep folding I won’t fit in that box

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