Stain

I pulled the string to tip the bucket
tip the bucket over.
I knew it would, I knew it would
spill its contents on the carpet.
And stain its fibers, ruining
the color it was made for.

But all the while the carpet was clean,
it was not even noticed.
Everyday it took its wear and tear
from soles not well intentioned.
And everyday each string was matted further in the floor.

Now the stain that leaves a ring much darker at the edges,
Much darker at the edges, a stigma at the edges