Dear Walkway

A Poem by Austin

My dear Walkway, on my lawn,
your entire purpose is to be tread on.
Grass can't grow where you now lay,
and you have to endure the elements all day.
Doesn't it ever get old:
The bootprints and the hot and cold?
Who cares if you're feeling blue
and there is nothing you can do.
No matter if you seek a change,
you're all alone to face the pains.
People stomp and thunder rolls
and the harsh world takes its toll.
You're all alone where you sit now;
having no friends to help you out.