A CUPBOARD

My faded scented brown,
Knows no origin, no beginning.
Yet since inception do I stand,
The geometric cube that I ever was and ever am!
By every dusk I score some dust
And become a spanned sabbatical rest,
Things come inside me and go out in spans,
And in me you find an odd assortment of those.
Ah! Odd they call it.
Creeps and Crawls find home in me,
Yet tranquil I be,
Isolate from mad conundrum,
Time does not exist for me, I sing my song of of silence.
By accident they do see me like an awkward construction..
And in a confused miserable flash I am forgotten again
Yet I be...