I remember when you
Hot wired my heart.
With promises that it would fly,
You drove it off a cliff.
I remember how it crashed at the bottom,
And how you jumped out just before
it went sailing to the ground.
Someone found it later,
And patched it up as the years rode by.
He asked my nicely
if he could take it fore a spin,
And I handed over the keys
and let him clamber in.
There's still some dents and dings,
But the new owner overlooks
the damage you left behind,
And when you came
looking to take another joyride,
You found that your once stolen seat
had been more suitably occupied.