What do I leave for myself when the world has rung me dry.
What have you left me with when you've picked me clean.
Call me a broken down shelf, a tired little thing.
A shelf that a few months ago was to polished to a shine,
Packed with sparkling baubles and trinkets with beautiful lines.
To be young and burdened is such a common thing.
Carry on strong for a short time,
Next thing you know you're knicked and scratched and scrubbing at stains with lye.
Your varnish strips off and you finish grows dull,
Your tinkets have been broken or lost,
Your shelves no longer full.
You don't realize that you've shed such a load.
You're so tired and tried, there's less and less that you can hold.
Before long you stand dusted and empty,
With only marks and dents to tell how you once held plenty.
Somewhere along that way you've aquired a limp.
People push and rock you, shove things under your feet,
"Ought to fix that gimp." They say,
Then shrug and walk way.
It takes just one to break out the cans of paint,
It takes just one to sand away the dents and jagged flakes.
It takes just one to mend a worn out thing,
Just one to lend a hand,
To make it grand again.
We all need a little help,
Even we're too wooden and proud to show it.
A shelf needs it's carpenter,
We need our family,
We need our friends,
We need kind strangers,
and short term companions.
Don't pass up a worn out thing
Take a moment and lend a hand
Brush off a bit of dust
Wipe a spot clean
Share a couple burdens
Help fix a tired little thing
To be young and burndened is a saddly common thing.
But to be burdened alone,
Is something worth fixing.