Who's Driving This Car? Poem by Patti Masterman

The window's blurry,
The odometer's broke,
​The tires are bare;
Who's driving this car?

The seats are saggy
From long time use,
The rear-view's broken;
Who's driving this car?

It knocks down the road
Toward the next bone yard,
And it can't get far;
Who's driving this car?

Once it was new,
Best thing on the road,
But now it's just old;
So who's driving this car?

I'M driving this thing,
And this car is ME,
And it's all worn out,
But I make it work.

If I didn't have it,
I'd be a-foot,
A fool on the pavement;
In fact, just stuck.

So I praise this car
And it's wobbly ride-
And I'm gosh darn grateful
That I'm still inside.