The Doormat

THE DOORMAT Closing its eyes The doormat sighs A sad rough tired sigh that breaks my heart It cannot move, for the wounds will ache It cannot stretch,, for the joints are all worn. A sad smile curls its lips As it mind wanders back To those days it was new And gleamed like crystal dew in the morning sun When it smelt all fresh and new. But no more. It remembers well Those boots…that over the years Grind it to dust Those shoes new and worn That crashed its bones and relished it. And like a dummy it lay there Unmoving yet not unable It remembers all that blood That came from its broken limbs When its bones were crashed Under the brute force of a heel It lay in a pool sometimes of blood That spewed from its many limbs Sometimes of vomit and others of filth And the sweat of a thousand men Onto it fibers forever stamped It gasped and choked on all em fumes And as it lay there, Bleeding and dying, Full of gaping wounds…unmended It smiled a half Monalisa smile As its eyes closed and the memories begun to fade Finally rest had arrived and... The door mat breathed its very last and embraced that peace, full eternal rest That to it did call.