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
SRenaS
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. I occasionally write on other communities and topics aswell.
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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.