Old Wooden Bench.

Reads: 77  | Likes: 1  | Shelves: 1  | Comments: 3

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic


Hello how are you....written alone in the garden.

Submitted: June 25, 2018

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Submitted: June 25, 2018

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The old wooden bench,

Sits shrouded in hedge,

Plants, pots, shears and shovels

Weigh down, the old wooden bench. 

 

Dry, flaky green paint,

Like withered old skin,

Falls to the ground,

In tears as he waits

 

For people to sit,

And share in their lives,

To watch young lovers,

Become husbands and wives. 

 

For children to play,

And hush them to sleep,

But for now, memories will do,

Etched in his wood, forever and deep.


© Copyright 2018 Calum Maclean. All rights reserved.

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