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The Badminton Racket

The badminton racket stands,
In the forgotten land
Where all things come to die.
Its strings all broke,
Not a shadow of hope
To its owner it cries goodbye.

After a life of ticklish feathers,
It now lies with its tethers
Tying it to its grave.
Smash after smash,
Tap, push, clear and clash,
It sits with no shuttle to save . . .

So the badminton racket stands,
In the forgotten land
Where all things go to die.
Its strings all broke,
Not a shadow of hope
To its owner it cries goodbye.

by Erica Hazlewood (10)
Springfield Primary School, Sale


Competition - Out Of This World

Copyright remains with the author.