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Rated: E · Poetry · Relationship · #1149439
A poem based on a black+white photo of a Beetle sitting in a garage, dismantled.
You never saw this picture.
This car was your pride and joy.
I think it would kill you
To see it this way.
Scratched, dusty, eager to retire.
Dismantled, in somebody else’s garage.
You loved that car
They way I loved you.
But you never understood.
Now that love
Lies cold and lifeless,
Like your car.
A mere shadow of its former self.
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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1149439-BMT-459A