Shell

Sometimes I feel like a shell

Rejected by the ocean

And abandoned on a hostile shore.

You admire the cool curves

And soft colors of my features;

Failing to notice I am hollow inside;

A carcass tossed in the sand.

Wanting to possess me,

You put me in your pocket

And carry me to your home;

Then place me on a shelf

With other’s you’ve collected.

Admiring me, like a trophy,

Comparing me to all the rest.

But all you have is the shell

Of what I really once was.