Rust in Waiting

Green paint curls like old skin,

fingers of rust crawl beneath,

splitting the metal’s tough facade.

The gate creaks its stubborn song,

a slow decay in damp air,

a memory unraveling quietly.

Flakes fall to cracked concrete,

a soft surrender to time’s slow bite.

The metal, once bright and proud,

now sings with corrosion’s rasp,

a reminder that even steel

can bleed beneath its armor.