Dirty Old Rag
I am alone.
Tossed in some darkened corner
Nothing but an old rag
Stained and tattered
Useful enough to wipe a stain or spill.
It was once part of something else,
New, clean and whole.
Now it is torn and ragged,
Moving on to other purposes
Perhaps less noble than before
Yet scorned.
Out of sight til need arises.
Alone.
Nothing but an old and dirty rag
Stained with scorn
Confined to darkened spaces
Forgetting past glories
Becoming attuned to a new reality.
I am not what I was.
Now, of narrower scope but grander visions,
I can still be of use
If needs be.