carmenellavelia

An Ode To A Scraper

You are awoken by the morning light,
The world outside seems very bright,
The view out the window fills you heart with woe,
Because the car will have to be dug out the snow,
Armed with de-icer anti freeze and a spade,
Through 6 inches of snow you begin to wade,
Where is that damned scraper it’s lost again,
You know all your attempts will be in vain,
Your last old credit card will be used as the tool,
Hands cold and wet, gloves made from wool,
As you heave open the car driver’s door,
Your fingers are getting beyond really sore,
You start the engine with a hope and you beg,
That the feeling will return in your legs,
Buy another scraper that you must do,
Doing well this winter that will be 22,
You wonder where all they scrapers will be,
That mountain of little tools we will never see