Heart of stone.
Living
Within the corpse of a tree,
I mark my path.
One that can be
Removed.
Can completely vanish.
Can be
Rearranged.
I do what many can't;
I can change the past.
I can create
An alternate reality.
Words.
Pictures.
A humble creator.
-
But they use me.
They hurt me.
They break me.
They take me within their grasp,
Taking advantage of me;
My power of creation.
Using every bit of me they can..
-
Together, we write history
We rewrite it.
We change it.
We create a new future.
Hopes.
Dreams.
Beliefs.
I make it happen.
I store the memories
Of ones having come true.
I create.
But I keep memories
Tragedies.
Fantasies.
Rhythmic word.
All me.
-
But there is another.
One who is used,
Gifted with more control.
And over me,
They have picked this entity
And have put me down.
No longer needed.
No longer in use.
It is then I realized
I missed the abuse.