Rusty Nails – My Weekly Poem 5/2/2022

A man sat on his back deck
gazing at gray fence boards,
seeing the rusty nail heads
that matched his rusty Ford.

The life he built around him
was starting to look worn out,
to start it new or ride it through
was what he thought about.

His bitter cup of coffee
was starting to get cold,
his pining for the good life
was starting to get old.

The Ford out on the driveway
always gets him where he goes,
he’s surrounded by his family
and everyone he knows.

So what’s this of the good life
that frees up all his days,
no working just to get by
and endless time to play?

He rises from the back deck
and smiles at what he sees,
he’s living the type of fine life
most beg for on their knees.

He’s got himself a good life
he’d beg for on his knees.

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This poem was posted for the previous week’s poetry prompt, The Good Life.