[b]The car in your hand is an aeroplane
Which only flies by prod and push
This, indeed is a speedy secret
Not contained in your clumsy manual
So pump that pedal brother
Pump it hard and cut your wings
Your ticket to the skies
Is under your feet
The car in your garage
Is a nerverless beast
Which only grieve when
Its showered with care
So flog it like a fatherless donkey
Don’t dote on plugs
Or brakes or mufflers
The less you care, the stronger it goes
Some people, when they drive
Are cautious wretches
They watch the panels for funny lights
They use the mirrors and those irksome pointers
They save their horns save for drastic needs
They are nice and kind like seasoned monks
Damn their style, avoid their ranks
Dont get infected by with their CARE-ful bug
If u can do a hundred miles
Why stop at a cowardly eighty?
At two hundred in sixty minutes
Flies may still perch on your sluggish wheels
Your engine, underused, may just decide
To die one day a slothful death
So chase the road to its sudden end
Line up the traffic..
Line up the traffic and thunder past.
Some fools, when they drive
Try to look ahead
At those mashed-up metals
Still drenched in smoking blood
Then they fly into endless remorse
Close that book, forget its lessons
Its their luck, not at all your own
Their bloody reward for a careful drive.
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[b][i]The End[/i][/b]
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[color =green]This beautiful piece is written by @Idrowest[/color]
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[color =blue]Nothing interest me more than a nicely penned write up... I love[/color] [color =red]POETRY!!!!!
