Lost and Found

We used to play
Hide and seek

And school had a wooden box
Called Lost and Found

Whenever I had to hide
I'd want to jump into that thing

But it scared me
Because there was always the fear
Of not being found

If you hide
You can be sought
And its altogether friendlier
In the parking lot

But the lost and found box
Had an attitude

It smelled of hope.

A desperate tiffin box
A forlorn pencil holder
An altogether abandoned umbrella

Each looking up ingratiatingly
At every half interested head
That peeks into the lost and found box

And what if your status changed
From lost to 'stolen'
Instead of 'found'?

Then where would you belong?