Entry - MAG Poetry Prize 2010

Rusty Can

by Daniel Worley

I wandered down to meet the sea,
To set my kindred spirit free,
I sat upon the golden shore,
A flock of seagulls swoop and soar.
Fierce waves crash against the rocks,
A fog horn sounds from the old docks.

Something shiny meets my glare,
Warmth evolves into despair,
An old discarded rusty can,
This was not in the oceans plan.
A wart upon an angels face,
This rusty can that has no place.

Added: 15.12.2009

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