Baking in the evening sun, With bodies missing but soul imbibed, In the rusted legs and creaking seate.... Seems like they stored zillion stories Within them, Unheard, Fading with each passing day..... It stands still now, Unconscious, Of the moving time and its own creaky legs, Falling apart anytime.... It's #poemtime. Collab and write a poem that begins with the line I found a #benchonahilltop #YourQuoteAndMine Collaborating with YourQuote Baba
