Well you guys here know us.

I started dabbling in poems a bit. This one, I didn’t write for me. I felt it about MrsK family, and how they treated her.
Thank you all. I just call this, An old Post.



An old post at the end of a fence.
Hours are spent looking at the wire,
Asking , how did the livestock get out?
And finally they find ,

The old post at the end of the fence.
The post who held the fence for years,
The post that was always “ there”

And the post broke. And they just said “well”
And put in a new post, to hold the fence.
And another post begins to age,
While it holds up the fence.