A tribute to the bucket whose value is receding today.
From the good old days
and right of late
the bucket I bet, is best
yes, at any rate.
Sloshing water as you go
its frame and form unique
metal, plastic whatever it’s made
elegant and a tapering, sleek.
Buckets for the famished
meals within they hold
with a ladle long and deep
the items scooped and doled.
Now whosoever kicked the bucket once
I really have no notion
must’ve fizzled out of an ailment strange
and not the bucket equation.
And the hapless bucket
they coolly passed the buck
played down its worth so badly
the bucket’s pot luck.
Falsely as now you see
the bucket so was blamed
and bucketed out a warning
and tarnish it in-famed.
So I’ll kick the bucket tonight
watch what happens tomorrow
I may be there or may not be
whatever, friends do not sorrow.
Image via Wiki
Nice combination of words and good post. 
love this cute poem about bucket!
By the way, there’s a Swedish proverb, something like that :
Don’t discard the old bucket till you are sure that the new one is not leaking.
You always have hidden meanings in your writing 
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