I am nothing, no one, a faded memory. A fantasy, a mystery. A consumable, wanted, used and tossed away. There for anyone anytime, wanting to keep, but never kept. A danger, a risk to what you now hold dear. Jeopardy as I linger in the back of your mind. I was shiny and new, but it appears I was only gold plated tin. I lost my luster way to fast. So as you sit there with your life so full, know that you’re always on the mind of this idiot, this object, this poor fool.