Disfigured

Someone disfigured our car

And really, I think, went too far.

No tires were slashed;

No windshield was smashed

But the perps seemed to lower the bar.

 

A sticker was placed on the back

Which felt just like a coward’s attack;

On the metal, not bumper

And left by a Trumper,

Both reason and cause it did lack.

 

My husband did what he could do

And scraped it all off, but some glue

Seemed to stick; what he saw

Still is stuck in my craw –

Seeing red makes me feel much more blue.