My first attempt of writing in verse. Ellen Hopkins wrote in verse in all of her books, which is hard to do, and I decided, hey! Why don't I write in verse? So, here you go. My first story in verse. Enjoy!

As a wave of trash lands upon me,
I wonder,
not for the first time,
why you left me.
Was I not good enough;
was that why you left me?

I shone like a burning star;
I was perfect.
I never messed up -
never once did I falter.
But you abandoned me,
left me to rot in this living hell.
Broken.
Shattered.
Alone.
That's what I am now.

I didn't do anything wrong, did I?
Was I not good enough
for you?
Of course not.
You were always wanting the
newest things, the coolest items.
I was too old, then.
Old and boring.

It's hard, you know,
being like us.
We have a few months to shine our brightest,
then we burn out,
lose our importance.
Nobody wants one of us,
burnt out.

There are others like me here.
Others with their own stories.
Stories far more tragic
than mine.
There are others that are mangled
beyond recognition;
because their owners didn't care enough
to keep them safe.
Now they're here,
reminisncing about our past.

We're overlooked.
Ignored.
Our role
is forgotten
so easily.
If we disappeared,
you would all be lost.
Darkness would descend.
No hope for a brighter future.
You would be
helpless
without us.
How come you
throw us away?

Next to me, a dented toaster shakes off a banana peel.
"Light bulb," it says in a tone
that makes me doubtful of its sanity.
"Light bulb," it repeats, giggling, sending
a wave of crumbs everywhere.

Light bulbs.
The most overlooked object
in the world.
It's hard being us,
you know.

I got you, didin't I? I bet you were thinking this was about an angsty, broken-hearted teenager. But it's not - it's about a light bulb!

Your opinions on this? Reviews, PMs, favorites, and alerts will let me know!

- Grape Fox