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Rated: E · Poetry · Comedy · #2173418
The viewpoint of a boy sticker/decal forced to travel on the rear of a vehicle.
         I wish that I could run and jump,
         Climb trees, kick balls, fall on my rump.
         Between my sisters I am squished.
         I'm a stick boy who's never fished.
         My elbow will not bend to poke
         the sibling that lives to provoke.
         She bothers me with words and taunts.
         I think of moves I cannot flaunt.
         It's family my parents say.
         On this car's glass we're meant to stay.
         Stick together through thick or thin.
         Stand tall, smile, wave, lift up your chin.
         Never have I felt a tickle.
         No tear drop did ever trickle.
         Sigh, laugh or cry, it's not for me.
         Stiff, posed figure I'll always be.
         Car exhaust, road dust, I can't gasp.
         Blaring horns, shouts, screech, I can't grasp.
         Sun, smog, snow, sleet,. rain, I can't blink.
         Up, down, bump 'round, it's hard to think.
         I dream of mud puddles to stomp,
         Friends in green fields to yell and romp,
         hide and seek, riding a fast bike,
         but I'm not real. This I don't like.
         A sad simple sticker am I.
         Ignored by most quick passersby.
         If I could, I'd squirm and complain.
         Stuck in one cramped spot is insane. ( 28 lines )
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