Here I lie
discarded again.
I start out useful
then become trash to men.
I am used
momentarily for pleasure
until the buyer has finished
what was once a treasure.
That child begged for me,
promising parents the world
if only they could spare some change
to put a smile on the face of their little girl.
I was content in the truck,
a cool frost surrounding me
with a sweet treat to be found
within a design so colorful and pretty,
but now I am relegated
to the hard, hot ground
where people only glance at me
as they walk over and around.
I don't have hopes
because I know I can't be used again.
I know enough to be aware
that this is the end.
No longer am I enjoyable
and no longer do I bring a smile
as the ride came to a screeching halt
by one small, insatiable child.
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