Once
when I was about thirteen
my daddy had a Lotus Elise
It was orange-yellow
had some sweet rims
a chrome stickshift
and blood red leather seats
that would make you drool

He took me for rides.
Took me to pimpin’ clubs
Awesome Parties that were off the hizzie,
took me to nice restaurants
with his snobby little girlfriend
(I didn’t like her because she was a big meanie to me. But my daddy thought she was his little angel.)

Back to my story. . .

My mom
was jealous about his pimp Lotus
‘cause she only had an old Mitsubishi Eclipse.

One bright, happy, morning
some bad guy (or maybe my mom)
stole my daddy’s Lotus
I tried to stop the thief
but he pushed me out of the way
got in my daddy’s, car and drove away.

All I could do was call the police.
But when they came,
the police officer that stepped out of the squad car,
put his hand on my shoulder,
looked me in the eye and said “Your thief got in a very fatal accident and died but your car got the worst of it.” Goodbye my friend ?.