They are possessions that no one owns. I am the only one that takes the time to admire them. Three vacant cars with a rusted exterior and an intricate interior. Three cars that no one takes to time to admire, but me. Three destroyed cars that have been spat on. From my apartment I can see them, but they are always empty, with no hope.
Their emotions are tired. They try to call out for rescue but no one answers. They make one last attempt to become what they always have wanted to be, to become who they were meant to be, to become a non vacant piece of society free to roam throughout the city. They will fail.
Had they forgot their reason for sitting and waiting, they would die. But they are stronger then that, stronger then what people expect. Strength, hope, power will help them get through this one last night and move onto a better and newer life.
When I am depressed about my current living conditions I merely look out my window at these three vacant cars and I appreciate life and I vow to help them to the best of my ability. When there is nothing to look at and nothing to hope for I look to these cars for my hope. These three vacant cars have hope. These three vacant cars will survive. Because if they don’t, how will I?