New work.

I'm like a wandering bottle found by mistake.

Could have been buried but maybe I was floating!
Either way.
My cork has topped me off, I'm filled to the brim and have had enough.
Sometimes I want to be found;
But sometimes I just want to explode;
Sometimes I wonder, what if I just set here on this beach
Would anyone pick me up or would the heat from the sun make me explode
That bottle just wants to scream;
Here I am, pick me up!
But all it does is set around and glimmer 
Author's Notes/Comments: 

I hope what I am trying to say here is understood.

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