pumpkin patch
Learn more about other poetry terms
You are the last pumkin.
Left bruised and misshapen,
Nobody wants you.
So you simply sit there,
Watching even the most desperate of people
Give you a look of disgust,
And walk on by.
My lips purse and blow
It clouds and floats away
I watch intently
And blow again
It reminds me
Of when we were kids.
