I came with preconceived ideas
Imagining a lovely life,
One where no hint of hate
Would cut me like a knife.

I became part of this home
Expecting to be of some use
Not to feel unwanted
Like an item none would choose.

But, alas, it was not so
As almost from day one
It seemed that all my stuffing
Would be pulled out all along.

Nobody treated me kindly
I was kicked and knocked each day;
Still, I hoped that a neighbour
Would visit like a sunny day.

But no, there was no respite,
No one looked at my wooden frame
With a sense of affection,
It seemed my age was to blame.

When I was much younger
Heads would turn to see
My elegant, beautiful looks
And enjoy sitting in my company.

But now I’m left in the corner
Gathering cobwebs and dust
Aging ungraciously
Feeling sad, and lacking in trust.