In a world of toys and games, so bright,
There stood a child, with dreams in sight.
But unlike the rest, with laughter infused,
This child wished to be, oh so used.
"Use me," cried the doll with eyes of glass,
"I long for adventures, let the moments pass.
Take me on journeys, far and wide,
Through valleys deep and mountains high."
The paintbrush begged, with bristles fine,
"Let me paint wonders, let me shine.
On canvas vast, with colors bold,
Let me tell stories, yet untold."
Even the humble pencil, it spoke,
"Sketch your dreams, on paper stroke by stroke. Let me capture your thoughts, your muse, For in your hands, I am to be used."
The child pondered, with a thoughtful gaze,
Understanding the yearning in their craze.
For to be used was not a plight,
But a chance to bring imagination to light.
So with joy in heart, and a playful grin,
The child embraced the world, ready to begin. For in the act of being used, they found, A purpose profound, forever unbound.
YOU ARE READING
Dear diary 🎀
PoetryThis story is about a child who grew up, written in poems. Sexual themes, rape warning
