Sponge

I feel like a sponge.
I soak it all up and take it all in
Involuntarily
Because that is my job.

All your dirty water,
Bacteria,
Gross and grime,
Your opinions,
Your lifestyle,
Your wants and desires;
You’ve used me to clean the world
With little thought to my own plans and needs.

Heartlessly you irradiate me.
I’ve begun to smell.
You hate me
For all the ugliness you’ve forced into my being.

So many voices shout in my head.
Such a popular sponge am I!
They wheedle and prattle and
Convince each other they are right.

No one really cares about the nasty old sponge.
For one moment of peace
I wish the dog would just eat me.