Gloria the seamstress,
Had a breaking down sewing machine.
One day when she was adding buttons to a coat,
The needle came out from where it had been.
Gloria the seamstress,
Burst into tears right there.
The two had been together for years,
And she had no other machine to spare.
So Gloria the seamstress,
Still in much distress,
Put on her nicest, blackest dress,
To mourn the loss of the machine she possessed.
“It’s time to let you go,” she said,
As she threw the machine in the trash.
She lit a match right on the box,
And watched the trash can burn to ash.
But just then, as she was crying,
She noticed a man at her door.
“Excuse me, madam,” he said rather sweetly,
“I’m selling sewing machines for only 144.”
Gloria looked at the burnt rubbish bin,
And thought about all the time the two has spent.
“No thank you,” she replied, remembering her machine ,
“For no one can replace my old friend.”
2007-08-14
10:41:07
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18 answers
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asked by
Anonymous
in
Poetry