ramblings and things

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Traffic Control


Approaching this roundabout

And looking straight ahead

Part time traffic lights

This strange sign said.

What on earth do they do

When not being traffic lights

Do they uproot daily

And go home at night?

Are they sentient beings

Paid on an hourly rate,

Do they ever mess up

And arrive on duty late?

Will there  be traffic chaos

If they decide to work to rule;

Because of their inaction

Will children be late for school?

Oh it’s all so confusing when 

Our Masters don’t seem to hear

The claptrap they write and

Worst have verbal diahorrea.

Peak Hour Traffic Lights Operate

Would seem so much less absurd

And would show a more proper

And economic use of words.

English is a beautiful language

Built for Poetry and Blank Verse;

Why does bureauocracy always mangle it

And make me want to swear and curse.




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Traffic Control