When The Revolution Comes Poem by James Daniel Gabriel

Days have me outnumbered here
inside a box of Would.
Alone I make my rainbows,
plus I dance on them for good.
Patient as a blue moon still
envisioned and cliche-
A fibonacci staircase
cycling in a box of days.
I leave you now this letter,
lest, I should write you a book.
In a place I am sure you'll notice,
that, yet, they will overlook.
So should you find yourself one day
beside a box of wood-
Perhaps instead inside you'll dance
on rainbows made for good.