Zachary Abdu-Glass

The Unnoticed

Walking up the path you see me
And I am a comforting sight.
Though the side of me you see is cold,
Battered by snow and wind,
My real self hidden under a layer of paint

I open, and lead you inside.
My cold face is warmed, just for a second,
Before you close me, subjecting me to the elements again.

I have done everything asked of me,
Kept out the cold, held in the heat,
Kept in the cold, held out the heat.
It is my job, my life’s
Only purpose, to protect you.
I need no thanks.


You enter, and look down on me.
Stepping on me with drenched and muddy boots,
Working the wetness and dirt
Into my fibers, making my pattern
brown, instead of the vibrant colors I possess.
And yet you never clean me.

Now cold, wet, and dirty,
I wait for
The terrible chills that run through me
To disappear, so that I may have
A brief respite from the pain I must endure so often.
Until you return again, to repeat the cycle,
I wait, not allowing dirt to pass my threshold.
I want no thanks


You flick me on
With only a passing glance,
And I illuminate your path.
I show you the way to safety.

Energy courses through me
My wires bright and hot,
The heat enclosed by glass.
But we are distant, distant,
And you do not feel my heat.

Soon enough, I will break, broken, useless,
Worthless, I will be replaced by another of my kind
My short life in service to you over,
I crave no thanks


You enter my domain
And sit on me, looking
For comfort and relaxation,
While providing me none.

Compressed, my springs creak,
I sag, I slump,
From years of misuse,
Jumped on, climbed over,
As insignificant as a leaf.

And yet you find solace
In my worn, soft cushions.
I have comforted you,
Comforted you throughout the years,
I expect no thanks.


I groan under the weight
Of what I hold,
All sitting very near to me
And yet no one hears.
Every day, I endure this
Weight, heavy on my back.

My four strong legs
Have borne the repetitive weight
Thousands of times
Never wobbling, always

I am and always will be
I covet no thanks.


You cut holes in me
Yet let nothing in or out.
You have driven nails
Deep into me,
And yet I have never

And on these nails
Digging into me
You hang decorations;
The weight of
Pictures, memories,
And give no thought to
How I am tormented.
I desire no thanks.


My panes are many
I have absorbed
Many a frozen winter’s
Icy wrath

I crack, I break, I shatter
I am a passage, the visions
On my face change, sometimes
Hidden, forever changing.

Unlocked, I lead you to the
Outside, but you never
See me. You look right through,
To what you want to see.

Locked, I hide you from the elements
I demand no thanks.


I am the door
I am the rug
I am the light bulb
I am the couch
I am the table
I am the wall
I am the window
I feel their pain and suffering
And my own as well.

I am a sign, a symbol
I am empty without you.
When you see me you know
That all will work out in the end
Though we require no thanks;
For you are the meaning of our lives.


Copyright 2002-2007 Student Publishing Program (SPP). Poetry and prose 2002-2007 by individual authors. Reprinted with permission. SPP developed and designed by Strong Bat Productions.