Paramount
Your grumpy face;
Nicked ‘your’ place.
Your parking space!
Not yours in any case!
Instead you glare
While I try to care;
He is quite ill
And needs his pill.
You think I’m lying!
He may well be dying!
You’ve gone too far
Over parking your car.
I look around,
(He’s on the ground.)
Your cones tell me no!
My heart says just go!
A stranger shouts
He’s cynical and doubts.
(My car’s paramount –
Human life doesn’t count)
Your material thing
Has worn me thin,
How can you compare
To a life I declare?
I have no praise
For your parking bays.
Had enough today
It’s cruel nowadays.
Copyright Linda Lawrence
17th October 2016
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