The toolbox on my tractor
     Has a little tray.
So I can take with things I need,
     Or just think I may.

I’m sure it was intended
     When it was brand new,
To hold a set of wrenches
     Perhaps a pliers or two.

A set of sockets all laid out
     In a nice straight row,
With a crescent wrench and hammer
     In the space below.

The engineer who drew it up,
     I’m quite sure had no thought,
That it should hold most every tool
      I have ever bought.

As field work starts out in the spring,
     The box is pretty neat.
And finding just the tool I need
      Is really quite a treat.

Then as the grain drill finds some junk
     Left from that old fence line,
The toolbox starts to gain some weight;
     That’s not a real good sign.

Soon we start to cultivate
     And then begin to spray.
With each job different kinds of scrap
     Pile up inside the tray.

Shear bolts from the combine
     Are pretty hard to tell,
From ones that fit the ditcher
     And the snow blower as well.

Beet harvest brings a challenge
     To slip in an extra part,
That I may need to fix a truck
     When it just won’t start.

Some 60 chain, a scalper knife,
     Perhaps an extra flail.
’Til squeezing in just one more thing
      Has no way but to fail.

I can’t get to the bottom
      To find the wrench I need.
I planted scrap iron in the spring
      And now it’s gone to seed.

Life is like that toolbox,
      Some times too filled with stuff.
So take some time this winter,
     Clean out the worthless stuff.