If you ever find a garden gnome who’s blue
Just know the past he has been through
An old man with a black shaggy beard
Who got lonely in his decrepit shed
Alone in the shadows of the trees
He stares at me with a vacant glare
It’s an old scratchy voice that speaks “I lay here in agony, I’m not allowed to play. They never come and see me anymore. They don’t want to watch this broken man who can no longer grow. Lonely and sad, I must stay, please forgive my state. The only thing I have left is these memories… I’ll keep collecting dust.”
-Kellen Henry, age 11
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