The Hitchiker Poem by Michelle Asswit

I was sitting in the backseat of a moving van
Staring outside the fogged up window I saw a man
His thumb pointing to the sky waving at our van
'Dad' I tugged his shirt and told me to stop
He shook me off and turned on the radio to rock
I wondered who that peculiar person was
Why was he stranded on a desert
Why did he stick his thumb at our car?
Why didn't he stop, why didn't we?
Maybe it's because we don't take chances