What am I?
You can't hurt an objects feelings
So then why when I am miss-used
I feel empty?
When I am held,
I feel warmth.
When I am full,
I am heavy.
When I am holding something,
I am admired.
When I am empty,
I am alone.
When I am new,
I am most wanted.
When I am broken,
I am forgotten.
Winter leaves me thinking,
I am lonely and abandoned,
Summer makes me realise,
That I can bring beauty
And bring a smile.
Iv been talking to myself forever,
Wishing I could find myself faster,
I am left sitting on the same shelf,
Thinking I have never seen so many beautiful colours,
And it feels like me,
The real me.
What am I?
Am I really just an object?
