Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Dec 2017
Am I a door, who's lock is broken,
who's hinges are loose?
I'm being swung open and closed,
Swung open and closed again and again.

My hinges are rusted,
I have scratches and kicked-in holes,
My **** is about to be broken off.
Next I know, I'll be ripped off of my beautiful loosely rusted hinges and thrown into the roach-filled dumpster.

But I was put there for a purpose.
To open myself up and let those in who were in need of help.
And those people have ******* me over multiple times.
But that was my purpose.

My loose, rusted hinges
held on
no matter how many times I was slammed or kicked
because that’s what I was made for.
To help others,
no matter how broken they made me
I held on ,
and I kept my purpose.
Written by
Maddie Cribbs  18/F/PA
     chai tea, Harriz Sierra, ---, JT, Syraph and 1 other
Please log in to view and add comments on poems