I am a Rubik’s cube,
Yes, that’s exactly what I am.
I’m not broken, not useless,
I’m just very hard to solve, very jumbled up, and most people give up on me when they’ve just barely completed one side.
I’m colorful; I seem generally happy and easy going,
But try to figure me out and you’ll soon discover I have a lot of problems.
Finally, when one side of me is sorted, you realize you have to take it apart all over again to figure the rest of me out.
Yes, a Rubik’s cube defines me perfectly.
I’m rough around the edges, and people twist me around trying to fix me all the time.
Sometimes they make progress, sometimes they just mess me up even more.
I feel worn out, like a forgotten toy in the world’s chest.
I am a Rubik’s cube, difficult, classic, worn out, and re-invented.
Outshined by all the new toys with a “self solving” button.
Left to gather dust until someone gets over the frustration of our last encounter and tries to solve me again.
I am a Rubik’s cube, a puzzle few can solve,
A puzzle that can’t even figure itself out,
At least I'm not a picture puzzle, at least I’m in one piece and not scrambled and lost amongst the floorboards of reality,
I guess there are worse things I could be.
But for now I’m just a Rubik’s cube, waiting for someone to solve me.