DISREPAIR

The big iron gate

Used to swing

Easy on its hinges

It was beautiful

With a purpose

An entrance to behold

It was cared for

And needed by many

It belonged

And it was useful

One day it creaked

Rust was setting in

People found it irritating

And stopped coming by

Caretakers left

Found new gates to love

And this old gate

Fell into disrepair

Having nothing left

No person left

To swing for

3 thoughts on “DISREPAIR

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