i have a little truck,
it isn't very new.
i paid a hundred bucks
cause it isnt very cute.
it uses up the oil
much faster then the gas,
requires tremendous toil
just to get the thing to pass
one headlamp looks right at you,
if you're standing to the left
the other one is up askew
for reasons i cant guess.
one door has a lock in it
that doesn't fit the key,
the other doesnt have one yet
i dont really see the need.
the shifter's on the column,
they call it "three on tree:
but here's another problem,
there's only two gears for me!
the seat is really comfy:
if you compare it to a box
though the foam is rather crumbly,
and the springs are father lost.
the floor is still quite solid,
it hasn't rusted through.
but the back is rather solid,
with all the garbage goo!
one wheel has a hubcap,
the others long since past
but it doesn really matter
as long as the tire's flat.
i can't roll down the window,
it's propped up with a board,
the hearter motor doesnt blow
can you tell i own a ford?
yep, my truck is fifty-one,
and still it really tries,
it wont start for just anyone
never could figure out why...
a poem with my dad that i thought i would share with everyone. anyone who reads my journals is more then welcome to post comments on any of them... rolleyes
 ruri-ruri · Fri Aug 26, 2005 @ 04:47pm · 2 Comments |
