The Pickle Poem

For the past few weeks I have been making poems in English class. At first I thought that it would be stupid, but as I've written more and more, I've begun to like it. The story behind this poem is pretty simple, I asked a girl in my class to give me a random object to write about and she came up with a pickle. I really like this poem here it is:

As the pickle sits on the floor,

I wonder where has it been before?

This pickle could not just appear

So where was it before it was here?

Could it be this came from England?

Or even its neighbor, drunken Ireland?

This could be a pickle from fancy France

Where they wear their fancy pants.

Could this be a magical pickle?

Worth a trillion shiny, new nickels?

If only the pickle could tell us it's past

It could tell us where it had been last.