Just run it off the Commissioner said
It works for me without needing to dread
But I still see the child's pleading face
That we had to leave alone in the devil's grace
And the ruined face and one piercing eye
That turns up in my dreams questioning why
When the screaming motorcyclist with the ruined head
Screams out his life after hitting the stobie pole ahead
And I wake up at night after yelling for it to stop
But you see just run it out and you'll give it the chop.
© Paul Warren Poetry
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem