Yin
Yang
Both compose
Me
Good
Bad
WIth me,
They are,
Balanced
I am
Everything
Yet to some,
I am nothing
One day,
I was given
To a small child.
The child was
Hopeful.
Loved me.
Couldn't give me up
For anything
At first.
But I crashed down
With
Wave
Upon wave
The child began to
Hate me.
Why?
I'm just doing
What I was made for
Produce,
Good times,
And,
Hardships.
Both equal,
Yes?
But the child,
Didn't want me
Anymore.
It hurt for me
To leave.
It hurt the
Poor,
Poor,
Child.
I didn't want to go
But,
The child made me.
I was nothing but
Pain.
Perhaps,
I am not a good thing
Perhaps,
I am not balanced
More bad,
Than good?
I suppose.
But that's just how
I am.
Aren't I?