I'm a little tea pot,
Short and stout.
No steam comes out of my spout.
Cracks in my porceline exterior.
Cracks getting to big to hide.
My handle is missing,
Shattered long ago.
Sitting on a shelf,
Pushed to the back.
Beautiful, tall pots in front of me.
Gaining all the longing veiws.
Yes, I'm a little tea pot,
Short and stout.
But here's the news.
I'm invisible to everyone,
Including you.
