You Feel A Sense Of Worthlessness Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

If those 'things' did not exist,
Would you still be who you are?
They have given you a sense of status.
And without them,
You feel a sense of worthlessness.
And you have paid a price to have them.
Even when they must be taken away...
They seem to stale with the commonplace of their use.
Taken for granted and has seduced...you,
Into shameless needing!
Like an appendage depended upon.

And you?
You try not to feel lost without them!
But you lay craving their use.
Feeling useless.
You can not do without them.
They are attached like a habit.
Like a muscle flexed.

They grow on you to affix themselves.
Like a missing leech recognized when absent.
However...
These taxing blood suckers have no feeling for you at all.
They are just things!
Things.
Things.
And yet those things...
They stay on your mind!
On your mind they stay.
And yet...those things?
If those 'things' did not exist,
Would you still be who you are?
Would you recognize yourself,
Without them?

Who are you anyway?
Do you know?
Have you cared to know?

If those 'things' did not exist,
Would you still be who you are?
They have given you a sense of status.
And without them,
You feel a sense of worthlessness.
And you have paid a price to have them.
Even when they must be taken away...
They seem to stale with the commonplace of their use.