You think that you hold me in the palm of your hand
I am nothing more than material, to you.
Something to be seen.
But I am invisible to you when you do not wish to see me.
I am not heard. I am not seen
I am a mere toy. One in a million.
I am a puppet on your strings
I am used. Controlled. Abused.
And forgotten amongst your old polaroid pictures; invisible.
When did I become yours? When did you lure me in?
I must have been blind.
A mere toy in this ploy.