In 1994, a chipper college boy bought himself a dandy new car.
He was a beautiful piece of metal.
His exterior was a shinny slate grey.
A daring red stripe hugged His sides.
The boy adorned his beloved new ride with a Virginia Tech logo with the name of his fraternity, all bright in orange.
A proud you man.
But things did not stay quite so lovely for car and driver.
The years came and went.
Two children made the boy a man.
Their sticky stains covered His floor and doors of the back seat.
Their grabbing hands slowly tore down the fabric from the ceiling.
Each day the sun beat down on the grey vehicle’s paint, permanently scarring Him.
A dink here, a scratch there,
Time shaped and aged Him.
As time passed by, the economy fell.
The man lost his job.
The man lost his children, for the monthly check he could no longer write.
The police came and took them both away.
The car found Himself abandoned.
Somewhere off 360, He found Himself sitting by the road.
Big yellow numbers were scribbled on His windows.
“$800,”
A tiny, hand written note was under His worn wiper blades.
“For sale as is…”
This quickly scribbled note listed all the car’s faults.
Not worth anything to anyone anymore,
Alone He sat.
He wept at night, wishing to move from this horrid hill.
The summer heat roasted His insides.
The trash sat, nearly composting in His cab and trunk.
Old food, infants clothing, photographs of children, and old court summons all had been collected inside.
One day, a man passing by noticed the old thing atop the hill.
He phoned his niece and told her of the deal.
A few days later, He had found himself a new home.
The girl scrubbed away His dirt and grim, and she cleaned out all of His trash.
After a bit of care and love,
Again He was happy.
He felt complete.
