I was a toy wrapped in shiny paper

that was given to you once.



You held me up to the light

and watched the paper glisten.



You thought I was beautiful,

you told me I was perfect.



I believed you,

for I began to love you.



Bit by bit, you unwrapped me,

taking my shiny outer layer off.



Like all new toys a boy gets,

you loved me, at first.



You played with me

and said nice things.



We had fun times, you and me,

for I loved you.



But like all new toys a boy gets,

I wore down a bit.



My body still moved

and I worked the same.



But you had rubbed off

some of my paint.



You stopped playing with me as much,

and it hurt. For I loved you.



You called me ugly,

yet you hugged me.



You slapped me in the face with your tender hands,

yet you called me "sweetheart."



You told me how you didn't deserve

a wonderful toy like me.



Yet you threw me on the floor.



And here I lie. I have forgiven you many times.

For I loved you.



I did my happy song and dance for you,

though it hurt to do so,

for I loved you.



Here I lie. I have been unwrapped

and worn down.



How I long to be loved

by you again.



But like all new toys a boy gets,

I fade away.



Across the room, in the bottom

of the trash can



is the crumpled, torn,

shiny paper from which I came.



You wonder why you can't just let go,

just throw me away.



It's not that easy,

for I still love you.



You need me.