Here I stand, week in and week out just filling <br />up with rain water in case there's a drought. <br />Sometimes I wonder if I have done wrong <br />because I am left out here, all year long. <br />I may lose some water when there are lack <br />of showers but it's just to help those wilting <br />flowers. <br />I stand in the yard counting the seasons, no <br />doubt those inside have their reasons, because <br />all I am is an old butt full of rain, being emptied <br />and filled over and over again. <br />When the leaves dropp in from the autumn fall <br />I feel like banging my butt against the wall, <br />because all they do is cramp my style only when <br />left to long they smell so vile; <br />yet who am I to complain I am only here to <br />collect the rain. <br />Then there are days when my fill is less than a <br />quarter, then on comes a storm and I am like a <br />lamb led to the slaughter. Rain falling so fast with <br />nowhere for the overflow, oh how my life is full of <br />woe.Then winter sets in with it's ice and snow and <br />that really causes a dreadful blow. <br />Rain water turned to ice, as solid as a rock <br />so I have now become a safe that you cannot unlock. <br />When the spring arrives and the thaw makes a start, <br />dont take off my lid because I smell like an old fart.<br /><br />sylvia spencer<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/my-neighbour-s-butt/
