Take the world you see,
The world you know,
The world you want,
And condense it into a ball.
Now think,
If that ball was never in your hands,
And when you made a ball it was not yours,
But someone else’s.
Every word you say to that person,
Every action you take at them,
Is like loosening or tightening your grip on it,
Breaking it or fixing it.

My ball,
It is filled with cracks,
It is dark,
It is in disrepair.
Yet,
despite how hard people try,
It will never break,
It will never be destroyed.
So those who now have control,
Who grasp my ball,
Place it somewhere,
And is forgotten…

I am shattered,
I am broken.
I am my ball,
My ball is my world.