The Junkyard_*

will you pluck the weeds around me,
polish me with a honeyed smile;
will you turn on the headlights,
and watch it fade back to sorrow

will you replace the shattered windows,
however fragile the new windows will still be
will you drive me in the sky,
and watch the birds fly by with a glare;

will you stay with me through the bitter rain,
cover us with a warm canvas;
will you never send me to the junkyard,
treasure every piece of limp metal?

because i will
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it's not over