The Driver

Brum Brum! Beep Beep!
Out of my way
’cause you’re on feet
and I’m packed up
in steel not meat.
You’re soft and small
and quick to splat
off metal walls
onto tar­mac
(you won’t bounce back).

Know what I am?
King of the road.
Know what you are?
Nothing!

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2 thoughts on “The Driver

  1. Pingback: The Driver and Good News! | Fingerwords

  2. Yes. I can empath­ise with this one. How puny they are. They HAVE to keep out of my way when I’m in my car. Sorry. Don’t know why I wrote that. it was silly. Yes, I did like this poem. And I empath­ise with the feel­ing. Other car drivers are also fair game with that sort of driver.