I feel as if I’m a stepping stone
worn from all of the walking and weather.
I thought you were different, but I should have known;
my life just seems to never come together.
My beauty was once so bright but fragile;
one would walk on me with caution.
Now I am older, and my soul has been rattled;
they now seem to stomp on me quite often.
The imprints of your steps remain on my body,
the gentleness you once had has faded.
I am now only one of your vast hobbies,
lying alone, slowly being wasted.