4+skinny+trees

==My I Pod is the only one who understands my music. I am the only one who puts my my personality into it. My I Pod with its battle scars from many days of use and its one revealing eye. One who was sitting solemnly in a Walmart, picked out by me alone. One electronic device, always needing to recharge. Traveling with me wherever I go, nobody noticing accept the people who always have to repeat themselves because I didn't hear them the first time, but never really appreciating its capabilities.==

==﻿Its strength is in its amazing power to remember the loads of information I put into it, without hesitation. Its blaring speakers echoing in my ears. Its shouting voice, sounding at the top of its lungs, trying to reach as many people as possible. This is how it inspires.==

==﻿Let it forget its reason for being, and it would still be lonesomely sitting in a case behind locked glass, collecting dust, like an old fairy tale book forgotten on the top shelf where there is no light and no one can see. When I sleep, there songs repeat them selfs in my head, teaching me to be what I am.==

==﻿Whenever I am sad, bored, tired, or mad, I turn on my I Pod and it compensates any bad thing that might be taking me over. When that dismal storm is coming in with its long, black, lifeless, fingers that others call clouds. One who kept playing despite its bad memoriesthat it is reminded of with it's scars. One who remembers and does not forget it's purpose. One whose only purpose is to sing and inspire.==