September poem for @marcusb AI Style.
“Traded raw thrills for a badge and some gloss,
Swapped Westfield joy for Lotus loss.
The dark side called, but let’s be frank-
It’ll never match that Westfield spank!”
Oh Westfield, my thunder, my open-air song,
You roared through the bends, where my spirit belonged.
Your heartbeat was raw, unrefined, yet so true,
A cockpit of joy with a limitless view.
We danced through the corners, alive in the breeze,
The crackle of throttle, the rush to appease.
Each mile was a memory, bright as the flame,
Each drive was a story, no two were the same.
But now you are gone, sold off with a sigh,
Replaced by a Lotus-oh, how could he try?
To trade purist passion for something so tame,
To cross to the dark side-it just isn’t the same.
So here’s to the Westfield, forever my muse,
A car for the mad ones, the brave ones who choose.
Though others move on, I’ll remember your fire,
A legend of freedom, of purest desire.
He’ll be back!