Poem to the Driver
This old car
Is out of gas
If you’ve got room
You’re free to pass.
The wheels won’t turn
The engine won’t fire
Shove it in gear?
I’ve got no desire.
This car is out of gas
The wheels won’t roll.
Stalled on the highway,
So why pay the toll?
I drove it when sober
I drove it when drunk
With a suicide bomber
Sleeping in my trunk.
I drove it for my Mom
I drove it for my Dad.
I drove when I felt good
And when I felt bad.
But this car won’t move,
Pedal pushed to the floor.
Lord, this car’s outta gas
I don’t wanna drive it no more.
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Submission Name: Poem to the Driver
