Day after day,
I sit here lonely,
Encased in my shiny new packaging,
Waiting for a child to pick me.
I gaze out,
Of the plastic window,
That stands between me and my escape.
It's agony,
Having to watch the children,
Favour other toys,
Favouring others of my kind,
It messes with my mind.
But I know,
That the day will come,
When a child sees me,
And chooses me.
When that day comes,
All will be done,
As no longer will I be lonely.
I'll have a friend,
Until the time comes,
That they grow out of me,
And all our adventures together.
But I know,
Not to worry,
As it won't be too long,
Before I'm passed down,
Onto the next of kin.
YOU ARE READING
Book of poems
PoetryThis is basically going to be a book of any poems that I somehow manage to create in between writing my book, enjoy! I hope you can comment your interpretations of the poems and we can start a discussion on them:)
