I sit here in the charity shop
On a shelf all on my own
Not a very friendly place
Like it used to be at home.
Where I was loved and cherished
For the memories that I held
And other much loved articles
Where lots more memories dwelled
But then my owner passed away
And things began to change
We things of little value
Were looked upon as strange.
So we were sent to this place
To sit and wait until
Someone comes along and sees
We have those memories still.