Passed Over I sit on a shelf On display No one looks my way Dust rests upon me People come and go Why Im passed over? Ill never know? Is it because Im plain? Im nothing remarkable I cant recall the last time I was handled When I was picked up by soft hands With caressing fingers exploring every facet of me Examined by wanting eyes I sit here watching people pass on by Left to wonder why? At last I am lifted up to be taken home Alas, Im placed in storage Stored in the back Left in the dark and cold Im forgotten in a box Moved only because Im in the way Im passed over everyday Then one day With the box Im discarded with the trash In the ruins the end has come at last It wouldnt come to this if I had more panache Taken and dumped into the landfill Waiting for the kill Birds peck at me The elements scourge me There is no time in this place Only emptiness and disgrace How did it come to this? I was formed for a purpose Fashioned by an artists eye I can remember their hands upon me The laughter and pleasure in their voice Held up to the light in adoration Upon my frame In accomplishment is etched their name Now I am left in desolation Waste now covers me I am marred and scarred Smothered by the refuse of society There is no hope that anyone would ever want me In the darkness a sliver of light Light of which I cannot remember The warmth of the sun upon my frame I hear the sound of hands digging in the waste Fingers pulling me from the muck and the mire Holding me a loft in the sunlight Gentle hands wiping away the dirt Caressing fingers inspecting the damage and hurt Eyes that gaze upon me in amazement Laughter in their voice Echoing through this waste land Words rolling like thunder, I have found you! Eyes, fingers and hands that feel all too familiar Lovingly examined as if I was all but beautiful Then at last I see what the artist has seen Their purpose and creativity I am nestled and carried with extreme care A prized possession Warm water washes over me Hands and fingers handling me delicately To my surprise I am on placed display for all to see I hear the artist say, My first work, plain but beautiful to me.
Posted on: Fri, 29 Nov 2013 05:19:09 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015