They lay there still and lifeless
As I look out of the patio door.
Metal rusted to a bright sunlight orange,
The rain battering away the red
Into the past.
Gears and pedals as stiff as a man
Awoken from a coma,
Chains and shafts rusted dark brown.
Mudflaps dirty and brown, mossy green
In some parts,
Can't remember where one of them is gone.
Seats worn rusty and purple, puddles formed,
Seemed a bit like a basin
Until I shook them around and about.
Wheels pumped up once in a blue moon,
When not, they ain't round.
Still running though, smooth as a baby's bottom.
When I see the steering wheels, they're jet black.
When I touch them, my hands are jet black.
The dirt and grease mechanics know all about.
My brother and I would go to the peak of the lane
And fly down, wind puffing in our faces,
Wild and free, but now, They're waiting to be sold on,
The two go-karts out back.
A.J. Ryan
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/two-go-karts-out-back/
