Once upon all time and space there was a box. In this box there was a man; Not a normal man like you and me, But an ancient man – not half as free.
Burdoned with guilt, Yet burning with passion. But this, my dear friend, Is where our story turns ashen.
Long ago Longer now then it seems We meet a man you’ve met in your dreams A lovely, young man With two hearts made of gold; But an outer shell long built up – cold
He seemed to be happy, All locked up in his box. No one to tell him, To plead him, To dock.
It had been years since Amy, Rory or river had filled his hallow. He’d grown cold, Young face stuck in a scowl, Angry at a universe he had saved; Many times,
Desperately trying to keep up his guise. Deep down he wanted to help, But he thought to himself “not again, not this time”
Old friends try not to despair; No one could free him of this abhorrent affair. Not until she came along.
A dainty young girl, With A lot of curiosity, A child like gleam, And A strong personality.
The girl continued to persist; The man just could not resist. But oh, did he try; He tried to run away, He tried to hide in the sky, But she found him each time, Followed him up to his box in the sky; She saw this box and exclaimed “Its smaller on the outside!”
Ive had this poem around for years now and finally got around to typing it up.
“The last time I saw you, the real you —
the future you, I mean, you turned up on my doorstep, with a new haircut and a suit. You took me to Darillium to see the Singing Towers. What a night that was. The Towers sang, and you cried.”