THE PURPLE RUSTY DOOR

Alone he swings breaking silence

Just above the floor,

Carved with names and covered in gum

The purple rusty door.

Children liked to kick him then

But alas no more

Life wasn’t very pleasant 

For the purple rusty door.

Through rain and hail he shielded them

Those beyond the door,

The ones who never appreciated

The purple rusty door.

His was a life of thankless service

Of solitude and dirty paws,

A life of comings and goings

For the purple rusty door.

Now he hangs out the back

Just above the floor;

No one ever misses him

The purple rusty door.

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