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Amanda Noel Jul 3
A horse would pull me
while on the go,
Sometimes we were fast,
sometimes we were slow.

We’d roll for days
making a few stops,
The things that I’ve seen
would make your jaw drop.

One day the man got a car,
with those wheels he could go very far.
No longer useful
I sat in the yard,
No longer wanted,
I stood on guard,

For a day I would be needed
to level a cart,
I guess It went unoticed,
that I had a broken heart.

He left me here
to rot and rust,
my only purpose now
is to collect dust.

As soon as a better thing came along,
he hopped on the ride
while singing a song.
No thought or regard
of what had been left behind,
No man is compassionate, caring, or kind.

I now sit here
until moved again,
But I will nevermore
be a travelers friend.
This is an idea I had when I was visiting a small mountain town. There was an old wheel leaning against a tree in the yard of the house. It was the only one, forgotten about, collecting dust and spider webs, riddled with rust. Reminded me of all the ideas I have had, and forgotten about, because a new idea or inspiration struck.

— The End —