I feel numb,
empty, hopeless and useless.
Like a guitar with no strings
that can produce no sound.
Or a book filled with pages
but no words.
What do you do with a guitar that can't play a tune?
Me, I would throw it away for I deem it useless,
useless like me.
Something not worthy of being treasured,
but discarded of,
making space for more important things.
But some people would try to fix the guitar,
to help it fulfil its purpose.
They would write in the book,
filling pages upon pages
with stories and adventures.
Giving live to something worth saving.
They think nothing it truly useless
when there is someone that needs it,
someone who can find a use and purpose for it.
Therefore I am not useless,
cause someone must need me.
Mustn't they?
YOU ARE READING
Thoughts from my brain
PoetryIt's poetic, in a way. This is a mixture of poems and short passages. I'm writing these for myself, I guess, as a way to collect my thought, but I hope you enjoy the little pieces of me you read.
