Song: Hit The Road Poem by Dave SmithWhite

Song: Hit The Road

Rating: 5.0

Hit the road, Jack; you ain't got the knack;
All of the virtues in abundance you lack.
Hit the road, Jack, don't give me no flak;
We're both in the ordure and life is too black!

Hit the track, Steve. I told ya to leave.
Don't darken my door; don't return in a peeve.
Hit the track, Steve, don't whine and don't grieve.
You're not coming back. That's a fact; so believe!

Hit the track, Steve. No longer to cleave,
To this new minted heart that I wear on my sleeve.
Hit the track, Steve, your lies cannot weave,
A truce or a pardon, a stay or reprieve.

So, get out! Get lost! From the wonderless scrum,
Of the media hacks that just beat their drum.
Get out! Get lost! No longer under my thumb;
I won't bear the cost when you make me so glum!

Hit the trail, Stu. It's what you must do.
Hit your mark and you'll exit precisely on cue.
Hit the trail, Stu. For you know I will sue.
Far beyond the pale, you must say adieu.

Hit the trail, Stu. I told ya we're through.
Downscale your emotions for what you think is your due.
Hit the trail, Stu. For this is a coup.
You were a dead fail, and you still got no clue!

So, get out! Get lost! You slimy scum.
It's past time that you're tossed and that you all will fall plumb.
Get out! Get lost! And I will keep mum;
Though it's me you've double-crossed, I still will play dumb.

Hit the path, Garth. You were good for a laugh,
But on the bell curve for loving you were low on the graph.
Hit the path, Garth. You can't be more daft.
When the tidal wave hits you'll still be planning your raft.

Hit the path, Garth. Get away from my hearth.
The farther the better for me and my staff.
Hit the path, Garth. On your mortal behalf,
Don't linger much longer or you'll feel my wrath!

Hit the path, Garth. You're too smug by half.
With your time in the hay you spent more in the chaff.
Hit the path, Garth. Sign off, autograph.
Your fabulous ego will be your epitaph.

So, get out! Get lost! Threats leave me numb.
You may have glossed over your foibles
But I know what you've become.
Get out! Get lost! Go back to your slum.
You're stuck to my shoe like old bubblegum.

Hit the road, Joad. I'm not speaking in code.
I'm telling ya straight to leave my abode.
Hit the road, Joad. Let my disdain be your goad:
You're just so much baggage to be buried and stowed.

Hit the road, Joad. Before you implode.
There'll be no debate for the luck that you rode.
Hit the road, Joad. You are such a toad.
The complete urban primitive, all paint, tats and woad.

So, get out! Get lost! You feckless bums;
You cost me a packet of cascading sums.
Get out! Get lost! My reckless chums;
You used me, abused me, and left me but crumbs!

So hit the road, track, route, trail or path.
You hear me Joad, Jack, Stu, Steve and Garth.
Just ditch your load and you can scuttle your craft.
And leave me alone for I must take a bath!

Monday, January 30, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: love and life
Paul Warren 30 January 2017

A good poem with good emotion.

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