I am nothing more than an empty sack,
Used as whatever is needed.
Discarded with rubbish,
Then reused by another fool later.
I've been a physical toy,
To please the needs of the hurting.
After they found love,
I was left broken and unworthy.
I was beaten down by the angry,
So they could sate their rage.
After the wounds healed,
They left without a shame.
I've been traded,
Like cards in a deck.
Trade Boy of 18,
For Horny child of less.
I let myself be what others require,
Bringing value to this bastard son.
But my legs are shaking and my scars are opening up.
If I keep this up I'll be dead soon enough.....