The Carousel Horse

At times I feel like a carousel horse,
picked and chosen, and ridden of course.

My features change from years of use,
my colors fade and peel from times of misuse.

Tracing the same circles in the same direction,
always looking for another's reflection.

Time passes slowly as the light fades away,
while waiting as always for the break of day.

As the morning arrives and the children file in,
again, as usual, I am passed over again.

The scars of my past not hidden from sight,
shine brightly in the glow of sunlight.

Feeling beaten and broken in spirit and in pride,
I fight to hide my frustrations inside.

Eventually I'll be replaced by a shiny new horse,
who will follow my steps in it's own aimless course.

She will be chosen by many new riders,
and instantly be accepted as a desired insider.

My future un-certain is lain before me,
with doubts and confusions that never cease to hurt me.

As I lay in wait for my new destination,
I find a little of my own determination.

Though I am tattered and used, and new owner has found me, and where they will take me might be astounding.

I am placed at a new post in an antique carousel,
and given over to grace instead of past hells.

The future seems bright as the carousel turns,
the music plays eloquently as it's antique status has earned.

I am given new hope, peace, and pride,
and feel as though I am shiny and new inside.

Though my outside may be worn and not-so-good looking, I find that inside, I am no longer convoluted.

My pride restored and my status elevated, after all of these years...

I am suddenly elated.