Junk...

Laid out, left out, strewn about
awaiting the opportunity to find
its purpose once more -
does it remember its life before
banishment to the wasteland
of the misplaced and forgotten?
Or has it relegated to its own
servitude of lost usefulness to the
outside world?
Of course, it's potential is only
lacking in the eye that has yet
to behold thee, where the right
moment will come, none too soon...