I am not a trophy–cheap steel,
they bend and they break and fade through time.
They gather dust and do not amount to much,once their glory has passed, they are forgotten.
you could not sell them to save your life.

I am not your trophy–I have a will.
My will wants you to stop bragging and showing me off
to your friends and colleagues to quench your thirst for value
and your lust for fame–you do not own me.
I am no one’s property.
You do not have the right to flash me to mobs to your satisfaction.

I will never be your trophy–I do owe you much in this life,
but you haven’t bought me. There is nothing that ties me to you.
I can break free from you then I will not be harmed by your judgement.
I will not be among the figurines that you display
to project your perfect, righteous & happy life.
I refused to be polished by you.

But like a trophy, I will accept my rust
and all the flaws that I have and will have.
I will accept that life will be far from the picture in your head.
I will live with the fade and the dust,
and  as life comes to a close I will be at the back of the shelf–
in the quiet, far from the eyes and the praises.
the echoes and the applause.


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