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Untitled

The way they all said they wanted me.

A kid,
You fought over a kid.

You flattered,
Bragged,
And bartered.

I was a kid,
I still am a kid

You put so much pressure on me,
To be this figure you created.

No one asked me who,
Or what I wanted to be.

I was pushed,
And steered,
And molded into
Someone I never wanted to be.

And when I started to break away from my constraints,
You got tired of me.

Like an old favorite toy,
You put me in the donate box.

To go from being used everyday,
To collecting dust on the free shelf,
I didn’t know who I was.

My worth no longer felt worthy.

I relate to the old favorites,
The once booming,
The once loved,
The once everyone had to have it.

The fads that came and went,
That’s how I feel.

And it’s so damaging,
Even if we come back,
It’s never the same as it was.

Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Last few words: 
Open to suggestions for the title, couldn't think of one pungent enough.
Editing stage: 
Content level: 
Not Explicit Content

Comments

message! How about 'Divorced' for a title? You have made a very solid case for counseling parents as to applying pressure to children to choose. I think that unless there is some compelling reason as to why a parent shouldn't/couldn't care for a child at least a good portion of time, they shouldn't be forced to choose. You did a great job in writing so that the reader feels the emotion of this piece. ~ Geezer.
.

It seems that the days and hours that people
are available for chatroom are staggered and
not a good match for most everyone. How about
if everyone just shows up at the door, whenever
they have a few free minutes?

“Donation Box” might make a decent title. That was the line that resonated strongly with me as a reader.

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