|BOYS LIKE CARS BUT WHAT ABOUT ME? (standard:poetry, 203 words)|
|Author: JAVAQUEEN2000||Added: Jul 23 2010||Views/Reads: 1604/0||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|This is a poem about a womans view of classic cars.|
Boys love cars but what about me?- POEM Do they really care? I roll my eyes as they speak about my baby. My sweat, My tears. My accomplishments. Look at them strutting like peacocks. Pruning their feathers. Crowing for the beauty with the best assets. Fighting for affection. I roll my eyes. It's my truck. My 54 Ford F-100 My 350 short block with twin overhead cams. My louvered hood, painted in candy apple red with gold metallic fleck. I roll my eyes. Black leather interior is molded to my body The mahogany dash, begs for me to touch it. True fire flames boast of speed. Catch me if you can. I roll my eyes. I am just like them. I love cars. I love the smell of burning rubber. I love the jump off the starting line. I love the triumphant sound of the muffler,. I leave them behind. Impressed with my accomplishments. Try to impress me with your knowledge. I'll play. I'll question your carburetors, your manifolds , your blocks. First hint of deceit and I'm gone. I don't have time to teach and train. I have a 66 Impala waiting to be reborn and I am late for my manicure. Tweet
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