Thoughts of a Tired Toyota
You think all I ever need is a full tank of gas
But my old fenders and taillight need repair
I grow weary of the way people stop and stare
Whenever I sputter and belch as we pass.
No proper chick will ride in my torn front seat
The evening was a total waste of my time
I should not complain, it was not on my dime
But, please, could you turn down the beat?
I’d hoped we might run into swell-built Christine
With the high-end Chrysler rear-end jack job
But you persist thinking you are the real heartthrob
While neither of us approaches being pristine.
You might grow into a reasonably handsome hunk
And luck out with a good job, two gals on your arms
Do not worry about me, I won’t sound any alarms
By then I’ll be only the remains of this pile of junk!
written May 20, 2021
for "Personification Poem 150" poetry contest
sponsored by Caren Krutsinger
HONORABLE MENTION
"Personification - Comments" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Evelyn Cheung
All Poetry
Copyright © L Milton Hankins | Year Posted 2021
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