I am merely an object in the world of everyday people.
They throw stuff at me as if I don’t deserve any respect.
I feel the banana as its tentacles wrap around my insides.
Its gooey grossness seems to have a hold of me.
The cans of soda that manages to spill all of its contents inside of me.
There is nothing I can do to stop this chaos because I am not alive.
Yet, I still have a mind of my own.
I hear the constant whispers that people ignite as they stand and converse with their other beings.
They don’t know that I listen and I determine.
I create decisions in my head as to whether they are good or not.
They express everything and leave it all to rot right there by me.
I am merely an object in the world of everyday people.