Why do I still expect?
When I know they will not notice,
When I know they won’t care.
~~~~~~
Why do I still help?
When I know they will forget it,
When I know they will toss me away like paper,
Like it’s not needed anymore.
~~~~~~~
Why do they use me?
Like some sort of paper,
When done just throw it away,
Like used paper.
~~~~~~~
Why do I still hope?
That they will one day see my worth, my value,
Or that’s just my wish.
~~~~~~~
What am I really?
A paper?
A glass?
Or a ladder for them to climb up?
No,
I’m much more than that,
And I know it.
About the Creator
SR
Writing is one of my many hobbies. I love writing stories whether it is fiction or horror, everything is written from the top of my imagination.
Yes, I do feel the cringe when i look at my old works.
Where's the Glory?
In breaking news, rehabilitated Republican Senator Johnnie Johnson (Pronouns: HE, HIM, HIS) called a press conference from the Men’s room of the New Orleans Louis Armstrong International Airport, Concourse B, across from the Ignatius Reilly’s Lucky Dog stand. The Senator had just returned from a sexual reorientation rehabilitation program in Memphis, TN after being publically disgraced at a Buckee’s Truckstop restroom soliciting sex from an undercover cop three months ago. He is a founding member of the Reformed Christians for Christ, a conservative, pro-family and ex-gay advocacy group. In the spirit of being reborn, Senator Johnson invited reporters to marvel at his plans for a major remodeling of airport bathrooms.
By Cathy Schieffelin7 days ago in Humor
Comments (2)
This was so relatable and very similar in content with my latest poem. I loved this!
I can relate to the feeling of this poem. It's like being treated as a fast-food chain like McDonald's while the people around us feel like gourmet restaurants, even though we know we're just as good.