Disfigured
Someone disfigured our car
And really, I think, went too far.
No tires were slashed;
No windshield was smashed
But the perps seemed to lower the bar.
A sticker was placed on the back
Which felt just like a coward’s attack;
On the metal, not bumper
And left by a Trumper,
Both reason and cause it did lack.
My husband did what he could do
And scraped it all off, but some glue
Seemed to stick; what he saw
Still is stuck in my craw –
Seeing red makes me feel much more blue.
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