A Glimmer Of Hope Poem by Mary Champion

It's the curiosity that kills,
any feline could tell you that -
the lust for forbidden knowledge,
the unprincipled inability to accept uncertainty -
the need to know the future,
that keeps astrologers, fortune tellers and
tub-thumping prophets in business.
It's why Eve ate the apple
and why you, unsatisfied by the money,
opened the box.
You had to know if Schrodinger's cat was alive or dead.
But you chose the only box
that had no cat - dead or alive.

Instead, the contents exploded in your face
like shrapnel from a nail bomb.
Suddenly you knew far too much,
too much freedom of information.
How you wished you had kept your mind shut,
buried your head in blissful ignorance.
A seemingly endless stream of troubles
swarmed around you
taunting you with the slings, arrows
and chemical weapons of outrageous misfortune.
When the great cloud of misery had dispersed a little,
the shape-shifting box of tricks
morphed into a coffin,
which seemed a comforting place to hide,
given the circumstances.
Preparing to inter yourself,
a tiny spark of light captured your attention,
bravely shining in the broken darkness -
in one corner…
a single ray of hope
that lit up you name in neon -

PANDORA!