They named you first, and held their aim, A word you wore, but never claimed. It clung like ash, like iron flame- And now you bear the shape of it.

I’m always dropping down under the table, then everyone tries to pick me up. They want me to clean up what should have been swallowed. But the more they make me lap up. . . the dirtier I feel.

Day in and day out I keep it together, I’m my own tether, but my skin isn’t leather. You stretch me too far, like I’m made to attack, pick up the slack, no firing back. You push and pull just testing my limits. And you’re shocked when I finally SNAP?

They chose your claim before you knew, A symbol carved to amplify reach. They lit the iron, and pressed it through- Now you’re the sign they used to preach.

You walk in dirty like I’m not already sick of it. You press me flat and call it welcome. You never thank me. You never even look. And you think I’ll stay here forever?