A crash! a bash!
A meeting of metal
We see it - a small orange beetle
Facing the central reservation - mangled
Another car behind, stationary at an angle
Of course, the police are out in force,
And screaming through the rush hour traffic
Are two ambulances, and a paramedic
What a blinking start to a day
I hope and pray they're all OK
An endless stream of drivers with grimacing faces
Worrying about lost time and missed appointments
They can only move forward, there's no going backward
Or trying to swop lanes; only inches will be gained
No! they'll just have to sit in discontentment
Oh what joy, this motoring
Now there's mile upon mile of queuing
And fast metal monsters are forced to crawl or stand
Like some colourful armoured caterpillar
But still they belch fumes into Wales' hinterland
We're travelling in the opposite direction
I don't think anyone died, but it's time for reflection
On how quickly life can go awry
In a crash! a bash! A meeting of metal
Please be carful!
©Kris Prevel
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