I’m six years old and I’m sat at a table

My eyes are met by buttons

Small curved faces

Held together by small spools of thread

“Do you want to know something

That makes me sad?”

“Well I’ll tell you anyway

Else you’ll just be wondering…”

“I never see any of you anymore

Because I spend all day at school”

“And while I don’t hate school the tiniest bit

I miss you the greatest”

“It makes me sad to think that one day

Maybe you’ll be tossed away”

“A foolish hand might trap you in a charity bag

And you’ll be hauled away forever”

“Although more likely than that

You’ll go to another girl”

“One with better games, a friendlier smile

And hair that shines like sunbeams in a crystal sky”

“Maybe one day when I’m old I’ll miss you more”

I say all of this to them and the words stumble over each other

Like it’s rush hour and they’re grey suited men

But there no reply.

My tears are met with buttons

That blur their curved faces away

Patched together with love