“Meelo”, a poem by Charles Mabe / BoxOrphan

Meelo was a tiny kit
Who lived inside a box
Every night he curled up there
Between a pair of socks

His home was on the sidewalk–
On joint of First and Pine
A bustling little downtown that
Was busy all the time

Meelo had no mom or dad
He had nobody there
He didn’t own a thing except
The diaper he did wear

Can we learn from where he came?
The world may never know
All he knows is him and box
Come sun or rain or snow

But people always pass his way
Sometimes they give him hugs
Sometimes they play, then wish “good day”
To Meelo of the box

Meelo seemed a happy tot
He takes it on the chin
The mystery of his existence
Never bothered him

Every other day or so
A special friend would come
A complete and total stranger
Would come and pick him up

Maybe they would take him over
To the ice cream shop
Or maybe to the hospital
To give him a check-up

Perhaps today would be the day
That he would see the zoo
Play at the park, or see a show–
Every day was new

And every night he’d be brought back
Sleeping like a babe
And placed lovingly in his box
Alone to end his day

Meelo never had to beg–
Did not even know how
People were just kinda there–
Strange as that may sound

Sometimes the rain would make him cry
Sometimes he would feel sad
But the kitten did quite well
Without a mom or dad

He never was too hungry
He never was too cold
Somehow he survived everything
And often was consoled

How did Meelo’s life make sense?
No– how was he alive?
Does not the tale of Meelo seem
All a bit contrived?

Well, that is how the story goes
When writing from your needs
You want to show a feeling
You need to share your dreams

Art does not need to make sense
It needn’t be explained
The feelings and the themes are there
Be love or hope or pain

And when you create from your needs
You give yourself some love
And you don’t know if what you make
Will help another one

So please cut loose, accept yourself
And love the art you make
And know that it is worth your love
Whatever path you take

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