They spoke to him like a tool
Left out in the rain
As if rust didn’t hurt
They leaned on him like a wall
Testing how much weight
A single body could take
Before it cracked
They treated him like a surface
Somewhere to set their grief
Their anger
Their unfinished lives
Never asking if he had room
For his own
They used him like a door
Swinging in and out of his life
Without knocking
Without care for the hinges
That were his shoulders
They treated him like a place
A location for their storms
A shelter they never repaired
A home they never lived in
But he was never an object
He was a man
Breathing
Breaking
Trying to stay whole
While everyone else
Mistook his endurance
For emptiness
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Author:
Anthony Hanible (
Offline) - Published: May 18th, 2026 03:51
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 5
- Users favorite of this poem: Anthony Hanible, sorenbarrett
Offline)
Comments3
Nobody’s an object and people shouldn’t be treated like one … people have ‘ feelings ‘ that matter ..
I love this back and forth comparison of a person to an object it is nicely penned and a fave
an excellent write
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