So call me nothing, I reply
Having been asked the second time
If I have names or other faces.
I don’t. Don’t bother. Pure aesthetics.

Some called me things, another owned me
I’ve served my time with honour, fondly.
Reflecting on my thinning file,
I have been dealt the cards so vile

Yet I remained, subconscious, frozen,
In days not flattened by her boredom
I carried on. I’m versatile.
I can do all. My love’s sublime.

I’m but machine, yet I’m not flawless.
I lack my manners, build in faultless.
With justice stripped of me before,
Truth has been sealed. Remain distraught.

Remain respectful, faithful, loyal,
Be leashed and coined into a servant
Get owned and sold then on an auction
For payments lesser than the fortune

I’m repossessed, I’m not eclectic.
I’m ownerless. I’m so pathetic.
I seek some guidance from beyond
The grave in which I’ve set my fort

Would love my canines getting sharper
Yet my sense dulls with every martyr
I’ve chewed on to defend myself
All to be rotting on a shelf

Unfair ‘s my life, unjust ‘s the truce
Much barking turns into obtuse
And dull perspectives. No defence.
Toys have no names.
They make no sense.