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