MY CAR
Old cars are good.
New cars are not.
I love my old car,
The car that I got,
Decades ago and it runs so well,
New ones cost heaps
And are like empty shells.
New fangled ideas,
Leave me stone cold,
That’s why I love,
My car oh also old.
It will be 16 next birthday
Love this. Your poem nails the soul of keeping it real with that trusty old car—none of this electric, soulless tech shoved down our throats. Those “new fangled ideas” feel like another cog in the machine, stripping away freedom for shiny, overpriced shells that track your every move. Here’s to your 16-year-old legend, still roaring while the world chases empty trends. Keep the old-school vibes alive!
Thanks Mike. Love your comment.