Poetry

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An Object?

I’m just an object to you.
To be stirred and played with,
To be discarded when you
Have no more use for me.
Like a little pebble that
Gets caught in a shoe,
To be discarded whenever you please.
To be pushed aside and
Left for dead.

Well thank you!
Because of your indifference to me,
I found myself.
I made my presence known,
I became the best I could be,
I became someone,
Someone who was not just an object.

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