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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