Year 10 Trinity

Bunched up on the shelf,

keeping to myself.

Store is ready to open,

I hope I get chosen.

The clock strikes the hour,

people surge through with power.

Rushing, leaping, grabbing,

crushing, sweeping, nabbing.

Fingers flex in anticipation,

“Oh no! This is an assassination!”

Strong, burly hands grab my house,

along with their spouse.

People running, chaos everywhere,

“DON’T TAKE THAT SILVERWARE!”

Beep, beep, beep,

“No! Please!”, I weep.

Hustled into the back of a car,

“This is incredibly bizarre!”

 

In the distance I hear applaud,

“Is this what they meant by abroad?”

“Well done! You got some essentials!”,

This new place doesn’t have a lot of potential.

Darkness covers the light,

“Oh, this isn’t right!”

People eating, having their tea,

“Am I ever going to be free?”

My thoughts whizz around,

whilst I’m stuck on the ground.

 

Days pass by,

my brothers and sisters say goodbye.

“When am I going to get picked?”,

only a fortune teller could predict.

As I lie in the gloom,

I slowly await my doom.

“What is my purpose in this world?”,

my thoughts bellowed as they whirled.

 

People talk excitedly about a new craze,

“Wow!”, they say in a daze.

“Let’s try it ourselves!”, they say,

“Yes! Sure! Let’s do it, okay!”

The door swings open wildly,

and that’s putting it mildly.

They reach out, grabbing me,

“Yes!”, I say, “It’s time to flee!”

They don’t use me as they should,

“Weird,” I say, “is that good?”.

Suddenly I’m tossed up in the air,

I turn and spin with a little flair.

I connect with a leg,

“Please stop,” I beg.

I’m ignored and they continue,

“Have some mercy within you!”

I’m kicked up and down,

“What are they doing?” I said with a frown.

Finally, they stop, laughing madly,

I’m bruised everywhere really badly.

 

I’m tossed back into the dark,

“I’m not a football that you play with in the park!”

Finally, I’m used for my role,

on the stand, used for the bowl.

Eventually, I’ve got nothing left to give,

“I’m sorry! Please, will you forgive?”

I’m carelessly thrown into the bin,

stripped naked, I take it on the chin.

“It could have been worse!”

I’m lying as I curse.

 

I remember the days on the shelf,

when I was content with myself.

Now I’m a discarded piece of trash,

“IT’S NOT FAIR!”, I say in a rash.

I cry and I sob,

as I no longer have a job.

Soon, I’m taken to a rubbish tip,

and I’m not happy. Not even a bit.

“If you come, I’ll give a great cheer,”

“Eww, no!” I hear you jeer!

 

So up to this day, I lie alone,

“Why am I so unknown?”

Lying in the hole really does take its toll,

After all, I am just a little toilet roll.

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