The Boxians.

There is a place thats grey, a place that you might know; A place with clouds that hang on high and never seem to go;
And at this place you see there are people living there, they live in purple boxes, lined up and nicely square.
The Folks whom do inhabit this small cubic town, all stay within their boxes quite safe and indeed quite sound.
Four walls without windows are home to only one door, each home is fairly similar to the one seen just before.

These Folks are truely odd, the most unusual creatures, they're not like you and I on account of their peculiar features.

Their heads are strangly square, and its easy to wonder how, they'd ever learnt to raise those heavy uno-brows;
Their eyes are deep set holes, sat on two red round cheeks,
and small bodies and short arms, complete these odd looking geeks.The Boxian's we will call them, just for the names sake, are people mostly timid and often rather straight-laced;
Each NEVER will converse as they secure trusty padlocks on, and fear of the outside and of all other Boxian.Its easy to think that as time will surely pass, these Boxian's will change, their feactures will shrink-fast.

They'd have no need for eyes, so 'poof' off they'd go; Well what could they see through a thick brick window.
And 'poof' should go their mouths', without a need for talk, like an avary of Birds not sounding their natural squark.
It is saddening to see, this societies blameful shame, If Boxians could but realise that they're all exactly the same;
Each with a great square head, each are prefectly similar thinkers.
Each with two round red cheeks, and those generically familar binkers.

If they'd just agree to work together, some communication is a must, they'd develope some good friendships and eventually some trust;
Every Boxian would be happy, and would be making friends galore, and every home a welcome mat placed neatly at the door.