I'm an Old But Useful Truck
I lugged my loads. I earned my rust.
So, when they steered me into mud,
wheels spinning stuck, then sunk,
I must admit that wearied me:
the thought of hauling never more.
But now some ravens call me home.
I've befriended blooms and weeds.
My engine's refuge to wayward cats
waiting out the passing storms.
My trunk fills up with rain at times,
and creatures sip their fill and run.
I face the sunrise, dream with stars.
While my axle's bent, antenna's broke,
my empty tank has gaping holes,
and my battery has lost its jumps,
it's just not right to say, "I'm done."
My driving days? Of course, they're gone.
Odometer's not budged in years.
But I'm more than metal, wires, and gears!
So many functions I can fill!
I feel them whirl within my grill.
I'm an Old But Useful Truck © Copyright 2021, Robert J. Tiess.
View this poem at AllPoetry.com
Challenge prompt link:
Some intentional Poe references just for fun ;-)
Submitted: March 2, 2019