You are poem

You are a worn out

football lost in the

shed, of the old man from 1966.


You are a lost baseball hat

on top of a tree.


You are a stranded

plastic bottle of water

bobbing up and dawn

in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean.


You  our are a tennis racket

full of holes

waiting to catch a ball.


You are a deflated

football gliding in the air

waiting for someone  to head you in the net.


You  are a bell ringing

seeking attention from someone.


You  are a Xbox 1

waiting to get

played with.


You are a cat

that climed into the

neighbour’s garden and

now lost.



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