Dear Metal Giraffe,
you stand still as i pass
you watch, maybe i don't quite notice
you, though
you notice everything
your orange eyes reflect the passing of the cars
unsuspecting they are of who lives in this house or who loves those who reside here
left to right,
right to left they go
coming and going along
what happens here?
who comes and who stays?
who grows here?
Or who...
who died here?
who grieved here?
Who still grieves here?
don't you know, Metal Giraffe?
Don't you know who?
Didn't you love her? Didn't you love her too?
Do you still stand tall, Metal Giraffe? Between the bushes just beyond the mailbox on that quiet street?
Do you still see who comes and goes and do you still watch over the life of your guardian?
To me, you always will.
Rest easy, Metal Giraffe.
Sincerely,
Yours Truly
YOU ARE READING
Yours Truly
PoetryYou want to hear the truth? You want the truth even if it scrapes against your skin and yanks your teeth out? Do you? Do you wish to? I could give it to you, I could tell you what I'm really thinking under these voluminous curls. But that isn't qui...
