My box

Stuck in a box of translucent hopes,
padded by candy coated lies
filled with empty promises
and tears that I have cried.

Drowning in my lonely box
love seems so out of reach
you tell me once again your lies;
To the preacher you have preached

Sobs and cries become my newest trend,
the style of the year.
My box is like a magazine
filled with pain and death and fear.

Confusion clouds my vision
why does love bring so much pain.
Why do I fall behind when
there's so much I should gain.

Why can't my box be opened,
will I ever find who has the key.
Or could it be so simple that
The key's in here with me?