The Monster Truck
By Matthew C
Broken, bent, ragged and old,
It sits on my shelf, its stories untold.
I wonder if it will ever see
The happiness it brought to me.
This dastardly old thing called age,
Prevents release from its old cage.
With it I can no longer play,
Instead, I throw my dreams away.
I reminisce on times gone by,
Its engine roars, it soars so high.
It clambers up the hill so fast,
Back to the safety, at long last.
Sadly, it rots away alone,
Its rust builds up, its axles moan.
I rest the object on my knee,
It truly is a part of me.
