Dripping with Dust

What once was filled with knowledge and knowing
is now dripping with dust.
Unwanted. Unused. No longer growing.
Instead it’s covered in rust.

Now colors confuse it and make it hate life.
It wants nothing but to be gone.
Like a painful wound from a very dull knife,
it has been subjected upon.

Whether it’s dead or whether it lives,
the pain will never leave.
Only sadness and anger and hate it now gives.
in it’s silent misery.