As I am tossed and thrown about the room
I wonder if it's time to go
I have been well loved, worn almost daily until I started to fray
All of my friends have left me
To the trash or goodwill or a child
For me to never again see
We knew this would happen when we were bought as a set
One lost or dead or chewed up
Treated like gold until we were deemed too broken
And having slimy, wet hands throw me around like an insignificant ragdoll
Being made for convenience is the worst thing to be
As people only care for my job and not how said job affect me
One day I might be treated with care
Or in a museum away from here
Where a family of four hand and pass me
Door to door
Maybe someone will love me properly one day
But until then i am just a means to an end
And as I get tossed and thrown around the room
I wonder if it's time to go
YOU ARE READING
My Voice
Non-Fictionthis is just a collection of things such as poems, essays and speeches from last school year to who knows how long. all of these are issues i have noticed in america (where i live) and around the world. if you don't like what i said, stop reading it...
