ramblings and things
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.
Traffic Control