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Sentiment

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Everyone says
Your trucks just an old rust bucket,
It’s not worth anything.


Not to anyone else, but to me,
In my mind I see the potential.
What it could be.


I love the cool blue lines,
Running down the whole body
Sharp and crisp.


The lines are faded,
Rust spreading like cancer,
Why even bother, they say.


It's my past time
My project,
Knowledge gained from my grandfather


Long hours working on it,
Bloody knuckles, and dirty hands
Something I will never forget.


It may be an old rust bucket to others
But,
It's my rust bucket.




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