The Toilet Seat

What is a toilet seat, one might ask? Well, I will leave you to answer that after reading this.

When you cry, does your pillow wipe the sorrows away? No. Let me not spoil this for you.

Every day I get to meet different ethnicities, black, white and mixed. It’s something I have always wanted to be, being a famous person. Well, without me, a lot of people will suffer. They depend on me but in some rural areas, they only hear of me; they only know my ancestors.

Being white-skinned is a privilege to me. I never get pimples or dark spots. My life is not easy at all. I get to carry everyone’s burden, and my role is to take it and erase it. It’s not everyone who can tolerate me or look after me. Some see me like a QUEEN and a KING, and some as a cleaner itself. I have feelings too, but they are nothing. It’s like I am obliged to suffer for other people. No one kisses me, yet I need love too. I don’t know if my lips are dirty that much. Why is it some people pretend to love you when they don’t mean it? Actions speak louder, some use me when they want to refresh, some when they are sick and need a helper, but there was one who didn’t use me; she gave me love differently. She hugged me and kept crying to me. She said, “He used us but am going to look after us, my baby,” someone talking from the heart, WOW. Lovely, she is going to look after me.

If you need me, then treat me nice. Stop making me an option when I am the only one. Stop gas lighting me and treat me whole as I deserve. Love me like I want to be. When you come to me, I treat you so nice and let you lead because I respect you. It does matter that I am a toilet seat; please don’t use your legs to stand on me; I am designed to be sat on.