Life is like a factory

We all move along the conveyor belt

All in one direction,

Towards “euphoria”

After that, is what we all know as the end of all things

Sometimes, there’s a defect along the belt,

And that defect either goes unnoticed

among the other 7.5 billion parts

Or gets thrown to the side

And forgotten

Unlike the breadwinners

Or the picture-perfect

Or the favored

No one cares what happens to them

Defects just don’t belong in our

generic, socially unaccepting world

And then, there’s me

I’m like the part that starts out normal,

picture-perfect

And along the way,

I just get dented, thrown around, and broken

Like luggage on a plane

Yet, they never seem to find me

No one ever seems to care enough to,

And I’m just not important enough

for someone to try.

And the belt of life just seems to go on forever

And I’m still getting dented, thrown around, and broken

Until I eventually meet my demise

The one we all await

And as for the dents and broken parts,

Always remain

Until death do us part.

I get lost among the other 7.5 billion other parts

on the conveyor belt

Now, not just broken

But lost

Lost among others

Lost among myself