Theme Park Poem by Phil Soar

I’d like to own a theme park, where everybody queues
No rides or good attractions, just lines and lines of you
People standing in a line, with nowhere else to go
Lines and lines of people, all moving very slow

No end result for the all the time, you’re standing in a row
Turning back up yourself and passing folk you know
You saw them when the queue began, and pass them every hour
Hounded by people selling drinks, and dodging the odd shower

You queued up on the motorway, and at the entrance booth
You feel like you’ve been queuing up, since you were just a youth
Miles and miles of nothing, leading to an exit door
Then on to the next entrance, and queuing up some more

Open every day until the night starts drawing in
Calling home, on your cell phone, to tell your next of kin
That you could be there for a while, with no-one else to blame
Without a thought this queuing might be driving you insane

I’d like to own a theme park, where everyone gets lost
No lost and found for miles around, and charge a stupid cost
Then you could come and visit, and join a brand new craze
Queuing round in circles as you get lost in a maize