Ghost Car

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It was on flat tires beside the road,
Its race was run;
A symbol of Nigerian road.
Its hull is gone_
Under rain, with others to goad.
Fading under the sun.
Its beauty, that once was renowned,
Accident has torn.

Why wasn't it taken away?
Laxity in everything.
Leaving it there one more day,
A symbol you wish to unsee.
The ghost car you see today,
Ragged and incomplete.
Might be your own one day,
Then the vicious cycle repeats.
©aypoetry2020

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