My Tank
By Thomas S
The gunmetal grey encased within.
The cutthroat barrel frozen in shot.
The pierced armour bounced the shells.
Bloodbaths were made from the treacherous turret.
The brass-pointed stealthy machine gun.
Battles were won.
Enemies were made.
Vegetation vanished as the treads trundled terrain.
It served its duty.
For those many years
It passed down
From father to son.
The king of its kind.
But there it sits.
Watching time go by.
Encased in time.