call me sentimental

cuz its true.

i wrote this 4 years ago. (and bella, you may remember it)

this is how we roll with coronas in corollas
like ballas we chill in corner -

stores like high rollas with red fingertips from munchin 

cheetos and coca colas after we get paint jobs by the sistas from other mothas...

we roll to homey places on sweet occasions, raise our right hands to the vibrations 

of the undaground sensations...for what?
just to get by, just to get by, just to get by
this is how we roll with classic nat shermans 

like rastas in the pacific islands with windows down for the sounds of the windy city towns 

reppin the femininity in this battleground 

before we turn homeward bound. 

------------------------

26 and the joy rides are finally over.  while peeling off old bumper stickers, my eyes watered. it dawned on me how much this car has been there for me. it has become my equal - 10 years worth of wears and tears are symbolic of my own experiences through the years.  she has survived it all even after being hit 3 times, each time by an suv (god, what a metaphor. she's tough, i tell ya.) yes call me sentimental, but this car was my place of refuge; if only these car doors could talk. i don't know why they say parting is such sweet sorrow..it really isn't sweet at all. i had to finally let her (and everything else she stood for) go.

here's to lisa rolla and to new adventures, new joy rides, new thrills.