Loose Brass

This brass knob,

it shakes and it shivers,

a little loose in its fit.

Every turn, a worry it gives,

that it might just split.

I pull it hard,

and it groans, a tired sound,

from the plate it's torn.

A screw head stripped,

the metal worn,

like a promise that's been sworn

but never kept around.

It's just a handle,

but it speaks of how things

come apart,

the little breaks

that hurt the heart.

It keeps on swinging.