OctPoWriMo Prompt: Taste of Metal
My soul has been emptied
There is no one to fill me
I am a metal bucket stashed away under the old wooden ladder
I’ve been replaced by plastic and colors
Forgotten and tossed aside
My handle is loose and I have a few dents
But I’m not broken,
I still have value
But to who?!
No one still sees my purpose
Maybe the truth is I am useless
On rainy days I still catch a drop of rain by happenstance
It is refreshing at first,
But it only contributes to the rusting of the bottom of my emptiness
Soon I will be riddled with holes,
Truely unfixable.
I will be more than forgotten,
I will be thrown away.
Use me while you still can,
Heal me before it is too late.
Tighten my handles,
Oil me with love and understanding,
Forgive my imperfections.
Appreciate what you have before it is too late.
poeticfootprints 
“But I am not broken.” Yes. The mantra we all need to repeat. Thank you. xoA
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