Rusty
Though I've been rusty and alone
behind this shed for many years,
I won’t bemoan my wasted state,
for life has held more joy than tears.
I do recall some dark days when
I’d just come from the factory,
a shiny bright-red dream-mobile.
A rich young man paid cash for me.
A fine garage became my home.
I was impressed, but soon I knew
that I was just a ride to him.
His coldness and my sadness grew.
My rescuer, a teenage boy,
became my owner and my friend.
He named me “Pal” and cared for me.
Fifteen years later came the end.
Though all my parts had ceased to work,
he kept me. He knows how I feel!
He still comes out to visit me
and sits behind the steering wheel.
posted July 17, 2019
entered the Favourite Poem in Rhyme from July 2019 Contest
on August 4, 2020
Sponsor: Julia Ward
July 2019, placed 7th of 13 in Craig Cornish's "Old Jalory" contest
October 5, 2021
entered in the "R" New or Old Poetry Contest Placed 2nd
Sponsor: Constance La France
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