Tuesday, 31 July 2012

As a Discarded Toy

A blaze aches in my broken shoulder
My dress torn, covered in dirt and mud
Fat and putrefaction bath my once stylish hair
Useless and forgotten
I sink, lower, cast aside
And I suffered, did I suffer!

Some, some
Can ascend and fly
Like a bird of prey
Swooping on those
Dying among the garbage below

I've despaired since being made
Looked down upon by everyone
As a plastic doll, a cheap plastic doll
Never treated with respect
Or assumed to have a mind
Always a despised artefact

Some, some
Can cry and sing
Safe in their cloistered grandeur
Despising those trite
Playthings of yesteryear

I'm broken, torn apart, cut
Never worth repairing
Forever at the back of the cupboard
Always that unwanted gift
That last minute birthday present
Always the discarded me, the forgotten me, the ineffective me

Many, many
Can whisper words of defiance
At the greed and insanity
At the lies and corruption
Of the few, the few

Unused, cast aside
A momentary flick of the wrist
And stuffed into black plastic bag
Damaged goods still in that scuffed cardboard box
Sinking down among the detritus of ages
And thrown, late one night, into the refuse bin

Some, some
Can hunt and snare
For the shear thrill
The power over a plaything
Over a discarded toy

Once, I was on that shop shelf
I had a tantalising smile
A cheeky face
I had hopes and dreams
Of a simple quiet life
A playful life

Many, many
Can rebel and dissent
Can demand their own space
Can see the sparkling future
Can cast aside the ages

Now tears flow
Ripped to pieces
Downtrodden, so I cry
Never to be my turn
Despairing, so I cry

Many, many
Can reclaim a fresh world
Casting aside the vultures
A world of brightness, luminance
A world without hunters

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