Blast this awful woman for the things she puts me through,
Casting me aside without regret!
Quick to plop me down, inside a drawer, the sink, her shoe,
Picks me up to once again forget.
Why this inability to designate one spot?
Frying me outside till God knows when!
Hate to break it to her, but it's ME that's getting hot,
Waiting while she checks her purse again.
Stowed in sticky strollers, I've been shelved with spice and snacks,
Stolen by small sneaks with little hands;
Stored with random papers, I've been stuck in knicks and knacks,
Swiped and searched whatever she commands.
Trusted to withstand her hours and hours and hours of writing,
Just to be forgotten at some mall;
Wouldn't it be crazy, super cool, and so exciting
Putting me a place she might recall?
Dare I say, the charger? Kitchen counter? By the bed?
Care enough to not just toss or fling?
All I know is when I'm lost, I'm often left for dead;
Calling sixteen times won't make me ring.
Doubt me, then you're just a fool, to think I'd be so bold;
Pouting, seeking pity for myself.
Best you know my whereabouts, before you think me cold,
Resting here upon the freezer shelf.
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