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Well this has a deflating feeling but                          a pumped upending.   There was a little one, he was always kicked around, but they were the best of times, boot or hand he didn't mind. Scuff marks marking his features,    every now and then washed off Mudd crusted between stitches. If he felt a little deflated they'd be positive pumping him up full of air once again. It was him and them for a time,   but it moves on. He went out less and less,   it was summer and he went            out once. Sitting on the windowsill wishing to between the blades of grass. at the end of a foot and                    a goal post. Not being kicked and thrown around, then it got real, he was put in the shed empty not feeling the air between his stitches anymore. Then he heard voices in the back,    don't worry you have friends, Were all a little deflated in here? I think some of us were mislaid. Forgotten by mistake or we like to think that. Hi, I'm seasonal, I'm beach. Now I'm just missing the sunshine. I got a puncture, I wasn't as floaty anymore, I was their favorite  seaside friend, you see they fixed my bobo. I don't leak anymore, but they didn't fill me up or throw me again. I was put in here for another time, but I only see them when they are looking for lost things, but not me. Meet tennis and his sister, there a right pair, one always going over the net, the other hoping that   the other would hit so they could feel the air bouncing between the                             racket and them. The racket was in here, but never talked just time pulling at his strings, sagging as if a smile hanging upside down. We have been in here a while,   don't know how long, we just chat about the fun times before. So they told each other stories wondering what it would have been to be the other. Laughing and joking at the possibility of either hit by a boot or floating so high in the air,  as if they'd never hit the ground. Time passed and one day the family all came to the shed, older than before. Oh my gosh, I remember you guys.. Mum, I found the beachball, oh my gosh he's still got his kitty plaster on... They pumped him up and he went in to the air, he could feel the heat of the sun, and it felt right again. They grabbed me I was a little shrunken,   And the boy now a man, oh my gosh.. I thought I lost you, they pumped me up. He did tricks with me, on knee head and foot, wow he's got better as time passed. Then racket came out with tennis and his sister, what shall we do with these,    Oh' no they thought are going to end up in the trash. But they saw racket tightened his strings, and then the yellow siblings where smacked against the wall, they smiled at the noise and the feel of Racket upon them again. The sun was beaming and everything felt like before. But then they were put into the car with other objects, a vase slightly chipped, but beautiful anyway. Books, with folded pages, what stories they could tell us, another time anyway. We traveled a while, hearing noises outside, And handed to another, don't worry we'll find them a new home. We were put on shelves, price tags stuck to us, we were left behind pieces that others didn't want to throw away. But finding us a new home, racket and the twins were first to go,                     at least they weren't separated. A new face taking them home cuddling, holding them tight, a home was found. Then it was beaches turn, a little girl with her mummy, she saw the kitty plaster and was smitten. She threw him in the air i could see him smile at the thought of once again being thrown again. Me I was the last, I was asleep didn't even realise that I'd even been sold. Rudley awoke to a foot in my face. what the, and I could feel the air between my fibers, I could see children and more of me being kicked around. I was among others as laughter and glee, as we were kicked and thrown, it felt like home again, not the one before but a new one I was inflated and gliding between posts, back of the net, and out again. Home is where ever you feel needed, and never let yourself feel deflated as we are all useful in our own way. I have to go as I have fourteen children chasing after me, and there I go. boot to me and in the air, I fly again.
0
Nov 9, 2020
Nov 9, 2020 at 6:28 AM UTC
Deflated Friends Find A New Home
Well this has a deflating feeling but                          a pumped upending.   There was a little one, he was always kicked around, but they were the best of times, boot or hand he didn't mind. Scuff marks marking his features,    every now and then washed off Mudd crusted between stitches. If he felt a little deflated they'd be positive pumping him up full of air once again. It was him and them for a time,   but it moves on. He went out less and less,   it was summer and he went            out once. Sitting on the windowsill wishing to between the blades of grass. at the end of a foot and                    a goal post. Not being kicked and thrown around, then it got real, he was put in the shed empty not feeling the air between his stitches anymore. Then he heard voices in the back,    don't worry you have friends, Were all a little deflated in here? I think some of us were mislaid. Forgotten by mistake or we like to think that. Hi, I'm seasonal, I'm beach. Now I'm just missing the sunshine. I got a puncture, I wasn't as floaty anymore, I was their favorite  seaside friend, you see they fixed my bobo. I don't leak anymore, but they didn't fill me up or throw me again. I was put in here for another time, but I only see them when they are looking for lost things, but not me. Meet tennis and his sister, there a right pair, one always going over the net, the other hoping that   the other would hit so they could feel the air bouncing between the                             racket and them. The racket was in here, but never talked just time pulling at his strings, sagging as if a smile hanging upside down. We have been in here a while,   don't know how long, we just chat about the fun times before. So they told each other stories wondering what it would have been to be the other. Laughing and joking at the possibility of either hit by a boot or floating so high in the air,  as if they'd never hit the ground. Time passed and one day the family all came to the shed, older than before. Oh my gosh, I remember you guys.. Mum, I found the beachball, oh my gosh he's still got his kitty plaster on... They pumped him up and he went in to the air, he could feel the heat of the sun, and it felt right again. They grabbed me I was a little shrunken,   And the boy now a man, oh my gosh.. I thought I lost you, they pumped me up. He did tricks with me, on knee head and foot, wow he's got better as time passed. Then racket came out with tennis and his sister, what shall we do with these,    Oh' no they thought are going to end up in the trash. But they saw racket tightened his strings, and then the yellow siblings where smacked against the wall, they smiled at the noise and the feel of Racket upon them again. The sun was beaming and everything felt like before. But then they were put into the car with other objects, a vase slightly chipped, but beautiful anyway. Books, with folded pages, what stories they could tell us, another time anyway. We traveled a while, hearing noises outside, And handed to another, don't worry we'll find them a new home. We were put on shelves, price tags stuck to us, we were left behind pieces that others didn't want to throw away. But finding us a new home, racket and the twins were first to go,                     at least they weren't separated. A new face taking them home cuddling, holding them tight, a home was found. Then it was beaches turn, a little girl with her mummy, she saw the kitty plaster and was smitten. She threw him in the air i could see him smile at the thought of once again being thrown again. Me I was the last, I was asleep didn't even realise that I'd even been sold. Rudley awoke to a foot in my face. what the, and I could feel the air between my fibers, I could see children and more of me being kicked around. I was among others as laughter and glee, as we were kicked and thrown, it felt like home again, not the one before but a new one I was inflated and gliding between posts, back of the net, and out again. Home is where ever you feel needed, and never let yourself feel deflated as we are all useful in our own way. I have to go as I have fourteen children chasing after me, and there I go. boot to me and in the air, I fly again.
poetic-t
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Nov 9, 2020
Nov 9, 2020 at 6:28 AM UTC
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