Rise

I’m laddered by others, 

stepped on and used. Rear rail creaking 

under the intense weight as I’m a

platform to climb and take advantage of.

The rear braces, unused to 

such load, caves in on itself.

Meant to reach for towering heights, 

yet exploited for selfishness. 

I splinter in silence, my frame begging for care.

Paint chipped from the grasp

of hands that never stay.

Still, I hold their hopes, their boots, 

their burdens.

When they are done ascending, 

no one ever looks back. Just to leave me 

standing, forgotten in the corner, 

waiting to be needed again. 

Perhaps one day, they will climb with care, 

not to rise above me—to rise with me.