I remember as a lad
The full service we once had
My Father, pulling into a service station
Being greeted by an attendant they all had
He would gas you up, clean the windshield,
Check the oil, and make change
You would receive, a plate, cup,
or saucer, without leaving the car
Now at sixty six, times have changed
It is all self service, what a shame
So true! Plus they would check your battery and the air in your tires and anything else you needed. Kim
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
You would receive, a plate, cup, or saucer, without leaving the car Now at sixty six, times have changed It is all self service, what a shame … a fine Poem.. thank u. very good Observation. tony