Owned

Owned

Owned by many

Loved by a few

I seem to meet people

Who like to own those they love

It’s an attachment style

That seems to follow me around

And is seen by those I meet

That I am to be owned

And praised

Like a pet

An animal on a leash

A toy

Up on a shelf

Choose when they want

Do anything they ask of me

And leave me with an empty feeling

Nothing left to be loved

But enough to be owned