And I've been bought a few times.
I've been bought by people who would throw me away
when they got what they needed or
when I wouldn't give them what they wanted.
I've been bought by people who thought they loved me,
but grew out of their love for me.
I've been bought by people whom I thought I loved,
but then I grew out of my love for them.
Being bruised and cut bringing baggage wherever I go
pained with the honesty I must profess.
Hanging on the blessing of forgiveness
and the promise of a hope and a future.
Knowing that being bought can be beautiful
if placed in hands that don't grow weary or tired with me and my baggage.
Holding on to the hope that love can exist.