Here I sit, on a shelf.

Many others are with me, yet I feel…
Alone again.

As I sit here, I collect dust.
People pass by me, pick others up,and I feel…
Unwanted again.

When people pick me up, I pray.
I pray that someone will take me from this prison, but they don’t, and I feel…
Lonely again.

As the lights go out, I think.
Those of us left here all think, we all feel…
       Undesirable again.

Maybe tomorrows my day, again.
It’s always the same thing, and then I feel…
Rejected again.

Maybe, my tomorrow will never come.
I’ll bet it’s because they judge me by my cover, I feel.
Isolated again.

No one understands the lonely, the pain.
The pain of ALWAYS rejected, I feel…
Abandoned again.

For years I’ve been on this shelf, this PRISON.
I’m always forgotten and avoided, I feel…
        Deserted again.

        They pick me up, then put me down.
NEVER have I been saved, I feel…
         Homeless again.

         I’m never chosen, by anyone.
They aren’t locked in here, they don’t understand, I feel…
         Solitary again.
     
         It doesn’t matter, their thoughts.
As long as I love myself, I can feel…
         Happy again.
                                                                                               But, here I sit, on a shelf.
Many others are with me, yet I feel…
         Alone again.