Empty Wagon
Little red wagonsitting under the poui tree
Pitiful,rejected,little wagon
nobody to play with
no one but me.
I see you there
with your scratched chrome of paint
and un greased wheels
that grew old with each ride
the incessant squeaking
that drowned out the screams inside.
Catching blossoms of pink and white
knowing you will keep them warm
just as when you held the life of a child
as gently as the petals fall.
Little red wagon
sitting under the poui tree
destined to be fond reminder
of childhood memories.
Poetry by Kel
Read 644 times
Written on 2006-06-01 at 15:09




Shahdele Isman |
Texts |
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