Again Poem by JOY JOHNSON

Every day I wait among the shadows of dark corners,
Often it seems like half a season has come and gone.
As I became a set of babblers,
I am lapped by rubber wearing a loose tongue.

Here today that Babbling Broach,
A Roach pulling and stretching hard crust of stinky stuff,
Hurting my elasticity, you hot shot to trot,
Pathetically impetuous I am brook.

Though if I could speak a clart
like back in the day before I became a crock
I'd hit the bricks proudly Lawry,
I'm all worn out like a faded Yellow Canary.

It's hard to cog-in and out of crud,
As I have been around I continue to bulge.
A loose seam unzipped by a ruin,
Never mind the worry I have nothing else to say.

Kaput! I am broadminded, yes I am worn out.
I am tired and refuse to be stepped on,
He took me through the rain, mud and snow,
Now on dry ground gosh good George let me go back into the dark.

As for now like a person I have gone many places,
I lived for many years merely as a thing.
Traveling the distance of time and space
On an unbalanced bottom outdoor scene.

Important! I must be and so I am,
Seemingly I cover much ground.
I'm bright in the light and old and dull,
Priceless to drag me around.