I refuse to be a commodity.
A thing to be used. Untrusted, abused.
I am not a product or skill on-hand.
Not a prize to be won. I am a man.
I have a life, and it’s not yours to take.
Give it away to others, huge mistake.
I become alien, don’t want to try.
No effort for others, it is my life.
I want to be valued, needed, wanted.
For things I can do, not what I possess.
I don’t want to give away everything.
Just to get nothing back but your profits.
I didn’t intend to sell you my skills.
Everyone needs them, we are all dying.
Wasting away from what can make us whole.
Aliens, butterflies, floating away.
I will leave too soon, and you can’t retain.
I have no purpose, is what I explain.
Reduced to a thing, not a part of whole.
Sinking below when I don’t see my worth.
Quantified by abstraction, I am more.
A human with feelings and my own soul.
Treat me like that, and I will give you all.
Nothing taken from me, just fulfillment.
Happiness inside because I belong.