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This thing of mine,
It isn't the greatest, but maybe it could be more.
It isn't the strongest. I know, I've broken it.
It's not the kind of thing everyone wants, but it's the only thing I could ever give.
It isn't big. In fact, sometimes it seems the smallest I know of.
It isn't the brightest. Most wouldn't consider it dark, but it has its shadows.
It isn't colorful. Its tones are faded, not robust and exciting like others.
It isn't the most musical. Its song is nice and common, but it's just a song.
It isn't the warmest. It can give comfort, but not enough to be sought after.
It isn't the most beautiful. It's appealing at times, but it always gets covered.
It isn't special. I wish it were, but it isn't.
It isn't the most interesting. Maybe for a moment, but it won't last.
It isn't the most enjoyable. It may give you a laugh or two, but you'll forget why.
It isn't the most dependable. That's how I learned it breaks.
It isn't the softest. I thought it could be, but I've seen it scratch. I hate it for that.
It isn't the thing I wanted, but it's the only thing I have,
This thing of mine.


