They egged my car...
I walked outside, the sun was bright,
the birds were lost in their delight.
I bounded down the steps with glee,
another day in store for me.
And there's my car, my trusty steed,
it's silver, cool, and good for speed.
I opened the trunk to grab some clothes,
but odor permeates my nose.
It smelled like rot, or death, or worse,
I round the side, and then I curse.
An egg was thrown, in quick decision,
striking the taillight with great precision.
The yolk was smeared across the car,
the "white" had splattered near and far.
A fragment of the shell was held,
onto the car, as if with weld!
I ran inside and plotted things,
that made the angels fold their wings.
I'd find the cretins, make them pay,
Paint their face with eggs all day!
I planned to get a chickensuit,
some eggs, and don my steel-toe boots.
Then I'd hide and when they came,
I'd make them lose at their own game!
Instead I scrubbed and scrubbed my ride,
At least the egg was not inside!
It was a pain to wash it clean,
when that stuff dries, it's pretty mean.
Have you ever shared my pain?
Vandals driving you insane?
I don't despair, I'll find my groove.
All I have to do is move.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jun 2010
About this poem:Ain't apartment living grand?