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Deflated
A yellow ball, so battered, so worn
Reminds me of my soul so very torn.
It had been touched very much
Form so warped, bent, and such.
I gazed at it sadly, remembering my past.
All those good moments that didn't quite last.
I found that the ball seemed something like me.
So used and so broken, it was almost ugly.
Deflated and still, so quiet and sad
Yet somehow I smiled. It wasn’t that bad.
The ball was resilient, so stubborn and strong
It made me feel like I truly belonged.
This piece was written on a whim after my English teacher jokingly said I could submit a poem instead of an assignment for class. Turns out, she was serious about it! So, seeing my yellow squishy stress ball on my desk that had been passed around and dirtied by the hands of many peers, friends, and even the floor, I decided to make it the subject of my poem. I hope you enjoy!