Well thanks for the gift, though I do not recall,

Ever blowing out candles and wishing me born.

I have no clear memory that I may have said:

“I would love a small body, with large broken head”.

For did I at some point request five foot three?

I very much doubt it for taller I’d be.

Yes thank you, it’s fabulous, just what I need,

A wonderful life I can grow from a seed.

Could I just please clarify, when did I say;

I’d love it in black please, with dark shades of grey,

And if you can find one with flashes of colour,

A slender size 8 but with breasts so much fuller.

The package misleading shouts shiny and new,

How laughingly silly, how grossly untrue.

For I do not work you see, I am defunct,

I’m labelled as useless, regarded as junk.

Yet paint on my canvas still fools you to see I’m happy, contented and truly carefree.

Of course, I am grateful, (though I had no choice;

You thrust this upon me, did not hear my voice,

For I shouted loudly “was not meant for me!”

But you did not listen, you thought I’d be pleased?

Well sorry.

Can’t keep it.

Was not meant to be.

They say the thought counts, you must surely agree;

No thought whatsoever was put into me).

I try to be grateful yet cannot accept.

Perhaps I could exchange, are there others left?

Please place on the faulty pile, maybe one day,

Someone will find use for this life in some way.

Until then I beg of you, hear this my plea,

If life is a gift do not give it so free.

If life is so precious, don’t waste it on me.