Paul Freiter (Perivale / London)
Car boot sale.
People are selling off paste tables,
They can be found in every nook and cranny,
Car parks, football fields and parks everywhere.
When you have seen one you have seen then all.
Bored faces being dragged from table to table,
People being charged silly money for total rubbish.
When they should have taken it to the Tip!
Comments about this poem (Boot Sale by Paul Freiter )
Top 500 Poems
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley