I am sick of you,
Putting me up high onto a shelf,
And leaving me there,
Until you decide it's time to use me again,
Until you decide you need me again.
I am like a porcelain doll,
That no little girl would want.
A decoration that will just collect dust over time.
I am a tool.
Something you will use,
When nothing seems to work in your favor,
Something to distract you from your problems,
Something that makes you feel powerful,
In control.
I am insignificant until you want me again.
I have no purpose in life,
Until I am taken off of that shelf,
And played with,
Toyed with.
I am nothing but another one,
Of your childhood toys,
You eventually got bored with.
And I'm sick of it.
I'm sick of feeling this way.
Aug 21, 2013
Aug 21, 2013 at 6:33 PM UTC
I am sick of you,
Putting me up high onto a shelf,
And leaving me there,
Until you decide it's time to use me again,
Until you decide you need me again.
I am like a porcelain doll,
That no little girl would want.
A decoration that will just collect dust over time.
I am a tool.
Something you will use,
When nothing seems to work in your favor,
Something to distract you from your problems,
Something that makes you feel powerful,
In control.
I am insignificant until you want me again.
I have no purpose in life,
Until I am taken off of that shelf,
And played with,
Toyed with.
I am nothing but another one,
Of your childhood toys,
You eventually got bored with.
And I'm sick of it.
I'm sick of feeling this way.
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