This poem is for you, crusty old guy in the Ford—
Your driving this morning just could not be ignored.
You see, miles on my bike I’ve logged more than a few
I know the rules of the road—MOST people do to.
But there’s always one moron, and to be blunt and bold,
The moron is usually on a cell phone, or old.
The cell phone types forget they’re driving their cars—
They’re speeding along with their heads in the stars.
The solution to this problem is easily known—
Get your head in the game and HANG UP THE PHONE!
But I digress, Mr. Ancient Ford Driver,
Your “skills” today barely left me a survivor.
Unfortunately I can’t fix this one complication—
Your driving—it stinks! It’s no exaggeration.
Just because you’ve slowed down and the world moves right past you,
Doesn’t mean that the traffic will do the same too!
So, when you’re going to the store to get your Depends and Ben-Gay
Do me this one favor—let me know you’re on the way.
If I know that you’re coming, I won’t be so let down—
I’ll just plan to ride on the other side of town!
2 comments:
ROFLMAO!!! Kim I had no idea you were so literally talented! You expressed my sentiments perfectly. Glad you survived your encounter!
I hope your mom reads her daughters' blogs. They are all so good and I am enjoying getting to know you each a little better. No wonder Heavenly Father is so in love with His children. They are all so darn cute with their interpretations of life's experiences. Reading people's blogs give me greater perspective like I think He has had all the time. Thanks for sharing. Love, Aunt Lori
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