DARK, musty, and Cold
That's how the toy felt
E V E R Y D A Y. . .
No One noticed him...
No One cared for him...
No One Looked for him...
Just sat |Alone| in the DARK . . .
What else could he do he was a toy, he had no free will.
E V E R Y D A Y he heard the creak of the floor.
BUT,
No One came for him . . .
No One searched for him . . .
No One thought of him . . .
All Alone by himself with no other toys to talk too.
No other toys to play within the DARK, forgotten, and discarded
Like a useless piece of Trash . . .
O
R
So he thought.
The creaking of the floor became Quick and got Louder.
Then they Stopped|
Up
Above
the little boxer toy, the door opened and a light shined
On his plastic, Black eyes . . .
Someone walked down the stairs
Someone flipped on the lights
Someone walked to his lonely box
That Some One was the one that forgot, the one that didn't notice, the one who left him . . .
She was his master, a sweet little 7-year-old.
She was forgiven by the boxer the moment
Up
She picked him and took him out of the DARK, Cold, and musty Basement. . .
Hugging him close to her heart . . .
- Kirsten
YOU ARE READING
Bitter Sweet Emotions
PoetryJust things I write well I'm not in a very good Place. I thought these aren't half bad. So why don't I share them with other people not only myself? So here we are I hope you like them. Also if some of them are Quotes or Poems you've seen before fee...
