Tin of Nails
Are we but a mere tin of nails on a ledge in the dusty garage?
Some very shiny and new
Some rusty and crumbling
Some thick
Some thin
Some very sharp
Some, well, just blunt.
Prodding and poking and pricking the others.
So silver, so new
So gold, so thin
So Fat and tough
So fragile and worn
So docile and delicate
So purposeful and strong.
What is our purpose?
To hold things together.
To be hammered down to keep a tight grip.
Without us the frame will break, will collapse.
Some of us can achieve this perfectly.
Others bend and break only to be pulled out and thrown away.
