Where No One Works!

hauling scrap metal,
junk...
old washers, dryers,

old beat up cars,
rusted down high octane
roads going nowhere.....

metallic flowers,
dying and dead,
never to bloom again...

hauling junk...
trading metal for milk,
bread, and potatoes...

in the land where no one works!

poem by Eric CockrellReport problemRelated quotes
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