A Broken Record ©

Note: The following in no way refers to suicide or anything related to it (I was told it sounded that way by a few people). The theme has no relationship with death or depression.



I am broken and bent. Time and time again I find myself repeating my every word, unheard. People only hear my rhythm and never hear my words, my rhythm rather than my reason. How can I have meaning at all without changing your day with a song or a story? As I go unheard, I just scream my words until spun off track.
I was once like and listened to, but now I am but trash to you. At first glance, I’m scratched and useless. That’s all that they see unless they take the time to hear my words and appreciate the meaning. Although I am named as and for only one, I am many. There are many complex and intricate symphonies of life, of thought, of energy, and even of death. You may have your favorites, and I’m sure you do, but I love them all. Each contributes to the greater message, to the purpose. There is no purpose with only one of those grand symphonies.
You may laugh when you hear me, people often do. It’s when I don’t mean to be that I am hurt. Hurt greater than before; a scratch that nothing may fix. You may feel bad but I’m not entirely broken. I continue on with my song and my words. Why would I quit?
Alas, you never let me talk, you discard me and push me to the side, and you keep me with the others, the broken, the bent, and the scratched. Soon you will throw me away, but will I care? You never liked me when you could use me, so why should I care? I will be sad, my tune will be slow and woeful, but I will go on. I will repeat, and I will speak. I will tell you this before that happens. I am not your annoyance for you are mine. When I didn’t want to speak, you forced me. When I did, you wouldn’t let me. But know this, when I am gone, you will miss me. You will regret what you did to me, and you will realize it is your fault I am broken. Goodbye, for this is my final song.