Dishrag Poem by Sally Walker

Born in a pack of four
Family
Left as you take a tour through a new home
Lonely you write this poem
In hopes of one day to show em
Plucked
Pure to say
So that you may
Sway away all the pain
Wash the dirty with rain
With every inch of effort
Even when drained so dry
You are ruined
You've pruned
You've tuned out every cry
As they wear you down
You wash every dish in town
Rinse the food that came from their mouth
Slowly crawling south
Drowning in your own sorrow
Staying strong for their morrow
Hoping to last
That they do not forget you and your past
After you've been tossed to their trash.