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