Door mat


With blistering steps of human stamps
with a rambling walk into a room
I stand as an inevitable prerequisite

Instead of pats of love
Rather, pats of dust
I was made for this i know
But not with stamps of shoes but human feet

Within months i will wear out
With a solemn welcome i offer to you before you go in
Will you ever say a goodbye to me before you go out

For hiding the truths with tiring lies
I am on my own to frazzle
Through out my life span, the door post Is where i call home 

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