Mayday! Mayday!

Life in turbulence.


Can it be saved?
(Perhaps it shouldn't)

Out of reach....

This is my place. I have been here since day one I was brought in. This corner is mine, a corner where I could only glance out through the window that fenced me from the world outside; motionless in my own disability.

Comes the sun its light shines upon me, warms me up and slowly fades the color of my skin.
Come the rain, I could only hope that the window would protect me from soaking wet; afraid that my incomplete form would melt in the course of time from the pollution-tainted rain.

I knew why I am here, brought in from the place where I was sold; though in my imperfect form but somehow attractive to some people that they wanted to own me at whatever cost. But I am only an object of display, nothing more; that is what I am to them.

Makes me wonder, was I ever been loved? If I ever was, why then I was being sold from one to another? I am so confused, and my heart is badly ached. They had me, but strangely they never gave their hearts and they put a distance to my existence. I was so sad, and still am.

But this morning as the sun rises, from this very spot in my small world I can see there is a light out there for me.