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Observations of a foreign driverAs a foreigner hiring a car to drive on a British road, I've studied an internet version of their highway code, My learning all their road signs and it's limits of speed, I really thought I'm prepared, an understatement indeed, We followed the nose to tail traffic as it crawled into a city, Observing a marked lack of signage, poor direction a pity, When looking for correct lanes, there's a need to be emphatic, Any instructions written on bitumen, were hidden by traffic, We saw speed sign so microscopic also hidden by leafy trees, Always the speed cameras abound, easy revenue, if you please This isn't about saving lives, so many locals racing in between, Many visitors will get caught, snared by signs unable to be seen, Now on the busy highways be prepared for weaving lane to lane, Idiots with little or no road etiquette, a playground for the insane, The many good drivers could never make up for the reckless few, But for the British transport department, you have some work to do Build ring roads around cities, make your signs bright and clear, Bright colours, larger writing, visible long before you draw near, Road test drivers charged with misdemeanours behind the wheel, It is not rocket science, good vision, simple changes, now get real Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades Vote for this poem
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