John Barleycorn

 
I saw him sitting there like that,  
emotions drawn all over  
his once efficient heart;  
it wasn't really his fault.  
He was looking lost.  
 
Like a Cadillac with its rear  
fender dented & bent,  
pulled to a shoulder parking spot,  
I saw him sitting there  
drinking gasoline, lonely &  
waiting to be filled-up,
and I knew that he felt a whole lot.