ScRaP

ever feel like a piece of scrap on the side of the road? like you don't matter to anyone. you were just tossed out the door of a moving car. they kept driving laughing in their hysterics as they usually do. its like they think its funny. like putting you down is what they live for. in a few days they'll come back to see if you are still on the road as an unwanted scrap would be. untouched by a breeze to move you along because of the little faith and confidence you have in yourself. they'll pick you up and tell you that you mean something. and you will believe them because they are all you have. too scared to find someone else to lean on. too scared that everyone is as these people are. you figure its better to be scrap. with hope that when you are all worn, torn, and destroyed they will throw you away for good and never return to replay the torture. everytime you lie on the pavement you go numb and just don't care what happens to you or the world around you. you hope that an eighteen wheeler will come speeding by and destroy what remains of you. but it never comes. you are forced to stay as a piece of scrap. forced to live in your tortured life.