This is going to be about a man in a box. But, to find out what type of box, you have to read it to find out.
I am in a glass box,
my elbows are twisted in a weird position,
My legs are behind my back.
My glass box is one square yard.
Kids are pointing at me,
Parents are chortling at me.
It’s almost time to get out.
Did I tell you that I am a contortionist at the state fair.
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