My garden’s a mess,
a haven of stress,
and overgrown bushes and stuff.
There’s old rubber hoses,
and prickly roses
with berries and cottony fluff.
There’s cobwebs and seeds,
and so many weeds.
I can’t even count them at all.
My shearers are rusty,
My composters dusty,
and thorn bushes grow on the wall.
There’s lots of old stumps,
and countless bumps,
and hundreds of squished, moldy fruits.
There’s tons of toy trucks,
and a family of ducks
living in my hiking boots.
My gutters have sludge,
the snails won’t budge,
and the dirt is all cracked and dry.
Then at this rate,
they’ll deteriorate,
and all that is left would be flies.
--Elliott H., 3rd-5th Grade
