Crate

By Ava Darwin

I am a crate

The ones they use the carry fruit. 

There’s bends

And breaks

Snaps 

And ways, to watch as the water floods out of me.

My eyes,

Broken dams,

No amount of more plastic,

To cover me up

Shall stop the water 

from flowing. 

I am a broken child,

With no name,

Therefore

I am a crate. 

By Ava Darwin