Am I just a tool? Am I just a Jukebox therapist in which you discard your worn out two cent pieces just so I can sing songs you wanna hear? Or am I just your emotional boxing bag? Left hook, right hook, uppercut....that body shot rocks me but you don't stop. You continue to let loose the weight of the pain that the world has placed on your shoulders. Chain me up again, Let me take your pain again, Beat me like the lifeless sack that you created . No, no...I'm just a honey jar. I'm that honey jar that you put sugar into because honey just isn't sweet enough for you. I'm just the vessel you've emptied of it's contents and filled with what you thought was a better version of me How long will you tape me up? How long will you reconnect my wires? How long will you cover up the wounds that you've made to help you to sleep at night? How long till you realize that there's no real parts of me that's left? Still I aim to please Still I bow to your will. Still I do whatever you say I'll be your favorite tool Even if I just become a useful Fool.