A Boxtrolls Poem

Scurrying around like little ants

Through the never ending maze of tunnels

Under the town of Chessebridge's city streets

Only coming out at night when the coast is clear

And like moths to a flame dig through trash

To find something valuable and then turn it into something

Brand new and cool that other boxtrolls never seen before

Living nothing but a meager existence

Different little trolls and one human with different personalities

Who once didn't have a name no means to exist

But now they where their cardboard boxes with pride

Because it displays their each individual and unique name