Car in the Show-room

I’m the car in the show-room,
All hidden there, behind obscure,
Glass windows,
Looking at all my brethren, zipping about on the road.

Release me, release me.

I stare out, and wish,
But this surly prison only
Makes the dream so hard to
Keep dreaming, here.

Free me, free me.

Perpetually the humans come,
To see my leather seats,
And spacious trunk,
And locking system.

Liberate me, liberate me.

They come to see little
Booklets,
And nod their heads
Then they shake them at the prices.

Take me! Take me!

It is lonely here,
All those dispirited,
Dead, cars next to me,
Not hoping for higher things.

See me! See me!

And every day I look at those zooming new models
Leave the parking lot,
With new owners and new petrol.
And I look on, longingly.

Just let me, let me!

But one day, some day,
I’ll get there,
And they’ll lovingly give me new petrol,
And let my tires hit the road.

Free me, free me!
I’m the car in the show-room
Still hidden here, behind obscure
Glass windows,
But soon I’ll be with my brethren, zipping about on the road.

Release me, release me!