Rusty you hide your
Self silently in the woods,
Watching the passing of
Time as nature touches
Upon your body work.

You are from a forgotten
Age of style, now an echo
Of past glories, as your
Tires flat and degraded
Your going no where fast.

A gem in the rough, gold
Worthy of rust, you feel
As this was your graveyard,
But eyes have seen your
Potential, seen beyond the
Surface, beyond your rust.

You will soon ride the road
Once more, you feel the
Air once again flowing over,
The road beneath you, speed
A rush as before, even though
the trailer is coming you can
Smell the tarmac of the road.