I place cubicles on top of each other
I form a square from the towers I just built
I mark the boxes with a piece of carbon
I paint them in different colors

Some contain my home, my clothes and food
Some contain my family, my enemies and friends
Some contain my feelings, my love, hate and present mood
Some contain my skills, my efforts and results
Some contain my birth, my past, my future and my death

Trapped inside the square that holds my predetermined lane
Everything seems thought already, everything seems sane

With these foreordained boxes

I never have to think again