A Thread


A factory was where I began

Simple and humble, we worked like ants

We were stretched, pulled, broken, and tied

until we protested and then some died.

 

It wasn’t until later

I was shipped away to a store

And there I remained until the poor

bought me and brought me through their door.

 

I was first made into a blanket

All thick and warm and tough as granite

And into my folds, a soft body was laid

One of a baby, newly bathed.

 

 

I took care of my charge

Kept it warm as could be

Made sure that it was wrapped tight as a bee

Until one day, it couldn’t fit

into my folds it grew up in.

 

So off I went, to the one who bought me

Those many years after the factory

I was ripped and broken and torn apart

and made into something new

What, I’ve forgot.

 

I lost some of my threads

(Those were old friends)

But it was all worth it in the end

For I was made into something new

Some handheld object used like glue.

 

I kept my charge’s hands hot

And made sure it never touched a moth

‘Cause those are nasty, dirty things

Why my charge liked them, I could never see.

 

{And when I wasn’t needed off I went

To the one who bought me, those many years ago

After the factory.}

 

By now, I felt old and worn

Like I couldn’t breathe, my soul was torn.

But still, I worked hard as could be,

and I was made into something new, you’ll see.

 

Now, I kept my charge protected

I never let anything break it

Its hairs were soft under my threads

I knew I was protecting its valuable head.

 

For years I perched atop the world

Watching my charge live a whirl

of colors, things, warmth, and cold

Until I couldn’t be stretched atop anymore.

 

With sadness, I was taken away

From my charge I had watched so faithfully

But wonders of wonders, look what happened!

I was made into something better!

 

Lo and behold

I was back again

Into the folds I remembered then

And a soft body was laid on me,

A baby, newly bathed and screaming.

 

Oh, new charge, I’ll look over you

As carefully as I looked over the previous you.

Because I’m just a thread

Pulled and torn

I can’t distinguish between you anymore.

 

You look the same, smell the same

You scream the same and kick the same

But my old charge never ate me, or pulled my threads

as if it hated me.

 

But despite this,

In memory of my old charge’s bliss

I’ll protect you from all of this

That you’ll experience soon enough,

But wait till your older,

And I can be there watching over.

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I hope you guys liked this! When I began, I was planning on writing a short story, but it just formed into a poem/rhyme. I really enjoyed writing it though… and I know there are a lot of things wrong with it, but I hope you read it with a little grace.

Thanks for reading!! XD

-monkeyeverything-

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