Hello there,
Let me introduce myself.
My name is Punching Bag.

It doesn't matter how long you neglect me,
Because, when you need a scape goat,
I'm just as tough as the day you first met me.

Hit me all you like, I'll barely budge.
And no matter how hard you throw that punch,
I'll only move closer to you.

Not once will I ever swing back.

You'll find those more well-aquainted with me sometimes call me,
Used Tissue.

When things get a little too messy, I'm the reliable one who cleans you up.
Get sick, I'll take care of you.
A broken heart? I'll dry your tears.
I'll fix your make-up.

Then, when the exitement is over,
Just toss me out.
I won't mind.

As you spend more time with me, I'm sure you'll learn to refer to me as:
Closet, or even Mirror.

A part of the furniture you're used to having around
But even whenyou get bored with the look,
You don't throw me out.

I'm a place to point ot your insecurities,
Then hang them up along side your skeletons, locked inside me.

Then, seeing yourself as better than you are,
Go on with your day.

Go ahead and stick a lable on me reading Story Book,
Even though I'm still fairly empty of fairytales inside.

I won't even read into your faibles;
There's nothing more exciting than a history that never really happened, right?

Make up what you think might be fun to tell before passing me to someone else,
To read and add on more.

But, now that you've gotten to know me better, why don't you call me Staircase?

I let people walk on me, walk all over me 'til they reach the top.

I'll have to warn you about this though.
I'm not made of marble, stone or brick.
I'm made of wood that's been warn away by heavy boots
So, each step is a little less thick.
One of my dusty, rotten boards might give way and you might fall.

Please, don't blame me.
Even with all my identities, I can't change what I am.
As har as I try, I'm still only human.