When do our toys become our things?
I had heard that
I shouldn’t play
with your things.
But, your things
were so much more,
in every way,
than my toys.
They were so
strong, so shiny
so interesting to hold.
I watched you,
carefully, while you
played with them.
I had to,
they were your toys,
clearly.
One day, I may
call my toys
my things
and forget that
it is play
I do with them,
but I would
rather not.