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Writer's picturePaul Grove

Turn to Rust


Gathered in dark places,

Forgotten to time and dust.

Newer model replaces,

As sharpness turns to rust.


Once was a necessity,

Now tarnished and ignored,

Just a case for charity,

To plowshare from broadsword.


Idle remnant look away,

A drawer of old sawdust.

Abandoned, tarnished, now passe

As sharpness turns to rust.


Tin can grave ’til dust corrode,

Oblivion resting place,

Years pass by where time once flowed.

Apart from the rat-raced pace.


Deserted idle remnant both,

Ignored by vile and just,

Choked by oxidizing growth,

As sharpness turns to rust.




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