Tape Poem by Benoni Chortle

I was bought from the store
To serve my purpose or more
To stick things, I cannot escape
I am a roll of tape

What do I do?
Do I sit on the shelf or be used by you?
Kept in a drawer and collect dust?
No, to do what I have to do, I must

I do not last forever
What do I do while I’m here?
To do a worthy endeavor
Even if it is what I fear

I am but a roll of tape as one can see
Not bound to duties or obligations, I am free
What do I do with this freedom, that is the question
My life is not my own, did I forget to mention?

With every inch of me I want to be sure
That my artist, craftsman, carpenter, would say I did well
In thought, action, and motive, pure
Even as I go back to my storage cell

As I am nearing my last inch
I hope to be well spent, grace shaped
Adversities, afflictions, suffering, I will not flinch
For I am a roll of tape