Old Dusty Toy Poem by Stephen Holcombe

You pick me out of many toys,
because of my ability to make you happy,
I'm your favorite toy to play with,
until one day the toy gets old to you,
and doesn't make you as happy anymore,
so you pick me up and play with me when you want to play,
but you don't play with me when I want to play,
you push me aside until you want to play,
and when the toy get old to you,
you put me in the back of the closet,
just to be replaced by a newer toy.