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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
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"Personification - Comments" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Evelyn Cheung
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Copyright ©
L Milton Hankins
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