I am unloved,
like a broken toy,
lopsided and crushed,
arms and legs,
at strange angles,
as if I had been dropped,
by a child,
too careless,
to set me down nicely.
I am broken,
like a wine glass,
dropped by accident,
shattered into a million pieces,
spilling its liquid contents,
on the cold hard floor,
leaving a stain,
where I fell.
I am lost,
like the missing twin,
of a sock,
long forgotten,
in the bottom of the drawer,
never to be reunited,
with its mate.
I am drained,
like an empty bathtub,
once warm and bubbly,
now cold and dusty,
lifeless and hard,
its purpose forgotten.
I am bitter,
like the lingering taste,
of black coffee,
on the back of the tongue,
making it hard,
to swallow.
I am somber,
like a funeral procession,
silently marching along,
musing over,
once forgotten memories,
of happier times.