PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Black box of sound, sing despite your age.
Small bounded fluff, carry 'til I'm dozing.
You'll be coming with me, on to new hurrahs,
and you'll be well preserved wherever you may land.
Oh box well-spoken, after all these years.
I hope your many sounds will bounce off concrete floors.
Oh fluff so loyal, it's been decades since.
You're nearly old as I am yet it doesn't show.
And the two of you remain, through present and past
to comfort and provide for me. With what souls you grow
through affection and love, you've melted into the seams
and hardened to support a standing of the tallest tall.
I had never forgotten your songs and bright noses,
your matter and colors and textures and weight;
I hadn't ceased my giving, the soothing that you'd done
is fit for proper lifetimes, just as I am living here.
I owe a deal to both of you, but you don't tend to gripe;
you're only here to speak and lay, on top and bottom stories.
But soon you'll see a shining that bests what you'd expect,
and you'll move along with me to wherever I happen to be.