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Doormat

Facinating, vibrant piece of fabric. Then step after step. Dirty boots and sharp heels stomping one by one digging digger each time. Slowly ripping the beauty away. Dirt, mud, trash dug deep in the threads.

Once a bright magenta now a faded gray. No one even looking twice as they strut through the doorway.
The doormat, unaware of how she's being used. Shes just doing her job. She did her best, gave her all.

But once used, shes invisible. Then to the dump with the other used and useless. They will go and buy a new one, never looking twice at the fabric they ruined.
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Submitted on May 11, 2021

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    "Doormat" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2021. Web. 24 Jun 2021. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/99640/doormat>.

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