A lump of old metal
It was a lump of old metal,
a car with no heart
cocooning him, purring
through back lanes,
down dark, cold streets,
warming him through
and he felt safe inside,
so that when, in December,
the car 'died' his body
shook with tears,
bitter, unrestrained tears
and I ached, to see him like that
on our last ride, so sad.
My sweet little boy
with his shirt hanging out
and his eyes, red and swollen
for a lump of old metal
that was our chariot of gold.
poem by Ruth Walters
Added by Poetry Lover
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