One Mans Trash

Brambles blanketing one end,
away and alone it sits...
too broken to mend.
Flakes of paint,
stained by tears of rust.
Petrified leather,
reeking of must.
A web-cracked windshield,
fogged by mold.
Splintering gray tires,
breathless and old.
A brittle brown scalp,
coldly caps the icy steel.
And a once proud control,
now a bent wee'bal wheel.

By: Kate Cloud