yes, yes
everybody knows
what happens to toys and where they all go
they are torn, broken, and beaten
but nobody knows what's the real reason
perhaps they are attacked all of a sudden
but what are the odds of being attacked by somethin'
when a toy is played with far more than often
it will be attacked by those who have been forgotten
he is defiled and harmed
in oh such a frightening fashion
he is beaten to a pulp
his leg will need to be refastened
the toys are so mean
there are too many to fight
he'll get them somehow
they will all cry in the night
the fire burned everything
the master did not come from the room
if i cannot play with him
then neither can you
wow. that is almost an extended metaphor, at least that is what i see. im not sure if it was intended but my mind tends to twist things sometimes. it is amazingly well written too. i really like it. and that also explains why alot of the things in my room tend to be beaten up... good work
I like the ending because now I know why toys get broken. if I cannot play with him then neither can you. Cute, and I love this poem because it's original!
wow. that is almost an extended metaphor, at least that is what i see. im not sure if it was intended but my mind tends to twist things sometimes. it is amazingly well written too. i really like it. and that also explains why alot of the things in my room tend to be beaten up... good work