I drove to work among the many anxious nerds
Speeding past and rushing to begin their day
I used some choice and very classic swearing verbs
And rage began to surge ahead on the motorway
The many faces locked in some emotional state
Switching lanes and causing many horns to blow
Rushing, racing, no chance that they might be late
Ignoring many signs that indicated 'SLOW'
If only we could plan our days a little more
And leave with ample time that we can spare
There wouldn't be a need to push that pedal to the floor
And it might be a pleasure to get there
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem