I am dented
Rusted boned and pleasant
My mind is still sleek and sharpened steel
My lips flow smooth and silken shapes
the body work is in need of some attention.
The engine is fuelled on dietary mistakes
The tyres are balding and the spare disappeared with the jack
I can still ride out the open road.
Ah, the beautiful places I’ve seen.
I still have a half tank of gas
To take me places I’ve never been.
If I could drive it all over again.
Would my roads be different?
I’ll never know.
When I’m taken to the junk yard,
I have only just one hope,
that I ran this dirty old engine,
at least twice around the clock.