Rug by the door: A poem

It feels nothing special to be a rug by the door
To have people step on you as they come then go
Come water or rain you leave me right outside
I will take your greatest messes all and every time

It is nice to always stay down in the floor
I get to watch the world in all, but gold
I would pretend I am deaf every time you lie
And keep my dark eyes always towards the sky

I always hear your whispers when they’re gone
How you really wished they were away in bones
I now do think I am lucky to be a rug by the door
Than be a human who change at every door

-Jan @jahnavigouri

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