My old vehicle years by my side now dilapidated what was once my pride
Seats torn from many a ride rust spots canker the paint outside
On the windshield a crack that continues to grow fenders dented from many a blow
Motor runs hot and slow a scratched bumper from many a tow
Overheating on a climb on the carpet stains of greasy slime
Lent to others from time to time in hidden crevices accumulated grime
The battery I can no longer trust down below rotted with rust
Tires about ready to bust timing needs a readjust
Her brakes power decreased on an incline goes west when pointed east
She squeaks until she is greased a junkyard priest told me she was deceased
Thought I bought her long ago but was on a lease that I didn't know
With a motor about ready to blow I just can not bring myself to let her go
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Author:
sorenbarrett (
Offline) - Published: February 12th, 2026 02:56
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 39
- Users favorite of this poem: Teddy.15, Friendship, Tristan Robert Lange, Paul Bell
- In collections: relationship.
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Comments13
Good write SB. Ahh, I must get a car like that for KP! lol.
Thanks so much Orchi for the read yes there are several around and some are even for sale.
The speaker’s emotional attachment to the personified car, combined with the revelation that it was only ever on lease—an idea that suggests we do not truly own our bodies or our lives—creates a thoughtful meditation on aging, attachment, and mortality. The extended metaphor is skillfully sustained.
Thank you so much for the read and interpretation. Your discerning eye has seen through the veil of this poem and its metaphoric guise. I appreciate very much your words of encouragement and support
Thank you for your gracious words. It was a pleasure to engage with your nice poem.
So your great love is now a rust bucket, 🤣great poem, my dream car would be a land rover discovery, but that's just a dream. 🌹
Thank you Teddy I deeply appreciate your read and kind words of comment. I have had a few over the years and you grow accustomed to their quirks and they become like a person that it is hard to let go of despite the faults
And to think I'm still waiting for mine! 🌹
Nicely written, Soren. Your poem is about the love for an old, dilapidated vehicle that serves as a metaphor for aging and the inevitable decline of possessions, as well as the emotional weight that can come with such attachments. The poet reflects on the passage of time and the deterioration of both a physical object (the old vehicle) and the nostalgic memories it evokes. It explores themes of attachment, loss, and the difficulty of letting go of something that once held great value.
Thank you Friendship for your read and interpretation of this poem. Your words are most appreciated and valued my friend
Objects do you have a soul that attaches itself to our soul and offers us this power to love ?
Thank you Lorenz for the review and comment. All things in this life are objects even people and we own them.
Thank you for your gracious words. It was a pleasure to engage with your nice poem.
It is I that thank you for your read and most generous remarks. Your kindness means a great deal
Soren, the layered deterioration reads like more than machinery…it feels autobiographical in spirit. The junkyard priest blessing its end, the overheating climb, the unseen lease…all of it builds toward that final line of refusal. Worn down, but still loved. Powerful metaphor, my friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
It is your insight that is most impressive my friend. You are the first to glimpse the metaphor and see through my disguise. But what I love most about you my friend is your wisdom and tact at how to present it. It is your sensitivity that allows you to be a wonderful poet and good friend. Thank you so much for the read and interpretation it is deeply appreciated.
Soren, your generosity humbles me. The metaphor was never disguised beyond reach…it was longing to be recognized. I glimpsed it because you wrote it with care. Grateful for your friendship and your words as well, my friend,. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
You've just reminded me that there is something to be said for public transport. The picture of you stood beside a heap of metal with your memories is complete, Soren.
Thanks Dave I do appreciate your read and comment yes I have had rust buckets in the past and grew fond of them even. Yes I have rusty memories too my friend. I guess I love old things even old times.
Getting attached to a car can happen soren.
Andy
thank you Andy for your review and comment yes it can just like anything else
Cars like the woman all go south at some point, and no paint job or overhaul is going to fix it.
Still got the pictures and the memories and that keeps you going.
Do like the smell of new cars, not sure if I could break a new woman in mind you.
Thanks so much for the read Paul and the interpretation and comment yes the smell of a new car is alluring but it gives a sense of caution where one is afraid to spoil it somehow. So much care to keep things nice.
everyone gets attached to cars or vehicles of their choice.. they become like companions...not just things... very well written and the rhymes make it sound like a ballad..
Thank you very much for your read and comment on this piece it means a lot to me.
Love it and the imagery is clear in my mind. And the feeling. Very well put together and written.
Thank you so much Jeremy I appreciate your read and most kind words of comment
nicely lighthearted, with clever lines like
She squeaks until she is greased a junkyard priest told me she was deceased
Thanks again my friend for the read and kind words of encouragement. Your words of encouragement provide the fuel for further writes and are most appreciated.
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