All Good Things Come To An End

Another Childish story about a quilt in poem form. Not my best writing.

It started out ripped, tattered, and torn.

An old quilt with all the years that had worn.

It no longer had a purpose, nor did it want to.

It hurt from everything that it had been through.

No longer did it wait for that one special day,

when that one caring person would take it away.

Torn, ripped, and faded wanting to be alone,

until the day it began to be sown.

Sitting with stains this quilt was still sore,

not wanting to be fixed or used anymore.

For months this patch worker spent all his time,

on a quilt that wasn't worth a dime.

It took a lot of sowing to fix the torn,

and still this quilt wished that it was never born.

It was washed, patched, and used once more,

But this time with more love then ever before,

No longer was it used in horrible ways,

now on a warm bed it sits and lays.

It's new and ready to be used again,

in the best shape then it has every been.

But even today in all of its glory,

this quilt knows the end of such a story.

Soon a new blanket will take its place,

and this quilt will be just a waste of space.

It will be forgotten like it was before,

and taken for granted once more.

This quilt knows this similar trend,

that all good things will come to an end.

Author's Note

ignore spelling and grammar. I also wrote this when I was little.