Red Car

The abandoned car stood on the waste ground,

rusting away, doors hanging off, leather seats ripped.

The children played there on warm summer days

but I was not allowed.

The place was dangerous

and the children were rough.

It was the first time I had ever been in a car.

I sat behind the wheel to drive it making

engine noises like a bus.

It was a black car.

In those days all cars were black.

Any colour you like, so long as it’s black.

I thought that a red one would have been nicer. 

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