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A hard, rough life
December 10, 2018
I’ve seen all different forms of weather,
Been stepped on, dragged across the ground.
I’m always here welcoming people to there home,
But yet I always get stepped on.
I hear all the voices through the hollow halls,
Through thin walls I hear arguments and laughter.
I get wet but never dried,
Wipe your feet so you don’t start to slide.
I am a rug, and life is rough.
But just like my surface I am tough.
I’ll sit here and silence, and absorb your dirt and wetness.
I won't ever give up im destined for greatness.
© Anonymous
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This poem is about being a rug it is very sad.