I came up with this poem from a picture of an old rusted, beat up broken 1920's gangster car.......

 

 

A Pain of Glass

It's the year 2053 and the remains of the long war linger
This monument is only a reminder
Of the hatred and battering of all man kind
No one has yet to repair and lend a hand
A man of haste
Surely will become a waste
Hassled by the hands of time
No chance to collect not even a dime
Weathered by the elements
Impossible for many developments
To change life in mid stream
Is death but an illusional dream?

© Eliza 3/03