Society's Toy

I am ever-changing.

Always moving, like the flow of water.

Dyed the colors of people I encounter, I now have a unique shade that, each passing day, becomes uglier and uglier.

The colors don’t wash off; they continue to pile up.


I am what others choose to remember about me-

Nothing but a memory, flickering through someone’s mind.

After all, you may as well be nonexistent if you are forgotten.

I hope I leave people with nice thoughts.


I am a spectacle in a cage

And disapproving whispers cluster around me

But my friend waves good morning,

And suddenly the cage is gone, and I’m a bird.


We are hollow.

Bound by this social construct, we sit and wait.

No right to stray from the hands of judgement, we remain windup dolls

And society loves its toys.

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