I'm standing in my nice box
Plastic smile on my face
Permanent
My eyes unblinking
They come
They want to play
They pull my hair
Bite my head
Pull me apart
Piece by piece and try to put me back together
the pieces don't quite fit
the way
they used to
at end of the day
they put me back in the box
covered with scratches and bruises
wounds
some of them you cannot see
the next day
they expect me to still be there
for them to play with
tear apart
again and again
until I am too broken
even for a
toy