1st Half of the Poem "Doormat"
I'm done. You've trampled on me many times. You won't anymore;
I'm done being your floor mat, forever waiting outside your door.
Being that squish of comfort on cement as you come and go;
You've not made me an equal, but turned me into something low.
It was always a competition with you, I didn't sign up to compete;
You’re threatened by my resilience, so you use me to wipe your feet.
You’ve dropped your ashes on me, I've been singed by the burn;
Set down on me your canned goods, paid for with what I earn....
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