My soul pulled up into the garage
Rusty and broken down
With a hanging left headlight,
Black faded paint,
Smoke coming out of the tailpipe,
Bottom dragging on the ground.
I got out and said, “My soul needs a fixin’
A new paint job
Twenty-four inch rims
To take me toward good decisions.
My soul needs plasma TVs on the headrests
To show me the good things I’ve done,
Twelve-inch subwoofers to bump my heartbeat,
A license plate that spells
And when I get it out the shop
I’m goin’ to spin it,
Roll it down the streets of Hollywood,
My window down, arm resting on the window in the wind,
Driving alongside all the other souls beside me,
Watching the sun set over the beach,
The seagulls, white like my angels.
By Carlos, 9th grade
Photo by Bob Jagendorf via FlickrShare this entry: