Could anyone see me
Does anyone care
I sit on a shelf unrepaired
How do I speak
Do I just open my mouth and the words come out.

How is it to see
Do I see what I feel
Or what is real
How do I move my eyes
From something that distracts me.

Would I hear what I want to hear
Speak what I want to say
I sit here waiting for the day
The repair man appears.

Would he fix me up And make me OK or mark me down and put me for sale.

What happens when I’m taken home
Would I be OK
Would I be loved
And excepted for my way.

Finally he shows
He takes me to his home
Puts me on a shelf
To make me a souvenir.

It’s all I will be now
Something that once mattered
Someone that had a name
Now all I am is broken
And I have no shame.

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