Rust
Do I look like grass?
Do I look like dirt?
A surface to be walked on?
Something to hurt?
Am I that underserving
Of loyalty and trust?
A bright, porous metal
Soiled by your rust.
Eroding at my layers
Until I’m nothing but bone.
I have nothing but silence
I’m alone.
You take no responsibility,
Your part you omit.
If it’s my job to love you,
I quit.
