drunken murmurs

so why shove me off the road and hen plunge into you grave? 🙂

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drunken murmurs

At day time you shove me from a road, 
that was mine when the moon controlled my universe.
Tell the taxi driver and                                                                                                                                 the bellied men in the big cars and the beautiful young ladies beside them,
Yeah tell them,
tale to all the drivers.

∴ ∴ ∴ ∴ ∴

Tale to them                                                                                                                                                 how you saw me controlling that tarmac.
Tales of how I was in charge;
parading from every inch;
With only tar on my mark;
How I paraded without a fall.
Tell them.
Tell them how that amazed you.

∴ ∴ ∴ ∴ ∴

I know you’re jealous Mr. Driver,
See, you drive me off the road                                                                                                                 just for an ounce of imitation.
But alas! You imitate me                                                                                                                             up to the last of your grave steps.
You tempt me to laugh.
Your stupidity tickles me,                                                                                                                           yet I cry.
I cry for your passenger’s sake.
I cry for your sorry lives;
Your family and wives.

∴ ∴ ∴ ∴ ∴

Your drunken imitations stink!
So tell them how lame their imitated moves are;                                                                                How their jealousy, haste and pride cost much.
Tell them how going slow and careful would reach them safely.
Count to them the already dead because of their carelessness.
And count them right that they remember.

∴ ∴ ∴ ∴ ∴

The roads not only fear me Mr. Driver,
But they also adore their pilot.
Yet you skid and speed and expect the same returns?
You’re wrong.

∴ ∴ ∴ ∴ ∴

Go slow on your wheels, Mr. Driver.
That is my advice.
Go slow and reach you frail body home.
I pray you cared for your passengers on these tarmac.
That will be more than enough to earn you mercy.

∴ ∴ ∴ ∴ ∴

 

Author: biko

A story monger; keen to pick on the details as he goes about it all. He finds fun in making the written feel like it was just spoken. So to say sarcasm and reality often race in between his lines, one slightly outrunning the other - pick your take.

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