Monday, December 16, 2013

My Wheelbarrow

 













My wheelbarrow

My wheelbarrow was a looker
Till one day someone took her
She was built of used plywood and drywall screws
The angles all cut with a skill saw
Her handles were strong, the two by two's long
And her tire held air

My wheelbarrow was a looker
Till one day someone took her
And every time I painted something she got a coat too
She carried dirt and leaves and firewood and concrete
I was quite proud of her actually
And she was a good dumper

My wheelbarrow was a looker
Till one day someone took her
I was having a smoke at four am when to my surprise
Came a knock at the door, what in our neighbourhood?
“Can I borrow your wheelbarrow, I got to move this tv and stuff
I'll bring her right back” da

My wheelbarrow was a looker
Till one day someone took her
Well at forty below and under three feet of snow
And frozen in six inches of ice
Me in my bare feet and him under the influence of something
But next morning my wheelbarrow was gone

My wheelbarrow was a looker
Till one day someone took her
She never appeared till the weather warmed up
Filled with fine furniture and balancing a pretty lady
Her boyfriend had kicked her out, I didn't have the heart
She thought she'd remember the house da

My wheelbarrow was a looker
Till one day someone took her
I did see her once more, the pretty lady that is
She still said she'd remember the house
I've quit crying now, it's over a year
I'm sure she's a goner
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