Metaphorical · Poem

Paint on the door

imagine a house;
a perfectly good house that others adore
with everything you need and sure
the paint on the door is peeling in places
but it’s nothing more than surface scrapes
and it doesn’t take away from the beauty-
the undeniable loveliness of the windows
that you just need to glance at
to see there’s more behind that door,
more beauty than that passer by thought;
and if you’re lucky enough to enter
to take a second to realise the soft old couch
and the bowing bookcases say more about the house,
and those stains on the carpet hold a lifetime of mistakes
(but they make up the memories in the photo frames)
and the stories told around that old fireplace
mean more in the long run than the paint on the door

 

Literally just a silly little poem kinda about how you shouldn’t (and shouldn’t let other people) base your worth off your appearance because the important stuff is behind all that… yeah… I also messed around a little with the structure and punctuation and just let it flooooooow out of me. Sorry if it sucks

 

 

 

 

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