Once Proud Truck

Once Proud Truck

It stands there alone in the weeds
How sad to see it in such a state
A truck which once carried a lot of weight
And was no doubt someone’s pride and joy
(Maybe the envy of many a young boy.)
Someone has mowed around it
And it allows me to peek inside
The cab with missing seat
And imagine what family would ride
And what sort of family would it be?
I wish through some sort of flashback
I would be able to see.
I’m sure there are those along this road
Who may know the story of this truck
And that I got to see this picturesque sight today
Was my good luck.
Thena

Granddaddy's Plymouth

How sad to see it sitting there
Looking so unkept and bare.
No laughing folks sitting inside
Ready to go for a lovely ride.
It once had grandkids rushing to see
Who Granddaddy's choice would be
To hear the words
"Come sit by me."
Too many years have passed it by
And now its rusty and forlorn
The little Plymouth that was new
Just four years after I was born.
Thena

You have such a talent bringing beauty to old and forgotten things. Love these two poems.

really cool...i know that my pick up is on it's last legs and i simply won't have the heart to junk it. i'll make a planter out of it...beats a toilet or bathtub planter any day!

Never could understand toilet planters.

My dad and my brother had "100 dollar trucks" that they loved and abused with all kinds of work. Both would brag about how much better theirs was than the other ones..lol

i drove by a farm the other day and along the edge of the road were two beautiful vintage fire trucks just rusting away, red and brown and white.
the chrome was still shining in the sun, sirens, lights, beautifully designed, still brilliant!
thought about this poem.