Thanks a Lot!

THANKS A LOT!

You'll have forgotten it by now.

The grass will soon grow again.

It isn't as though you've inflicted

Any permanent sort of pain.

I guess that you are masculine

And under twenty-five;

I certainly know you have a car

Which you dearly love to drive.

'Yippee! I am so Macho!'

Surely those words rang out

As you zoomed across our median strip

When nobody was about.

In the early hours you did it,

While everybody slept,

Proving yourself to be a dolt,

Youthful, gung-ho, inept.

What future will you go on to?

A crash, a crazy crime?

Or will you become an adult

Just in the nick of time?

The scars on the grass will vanish,

As all such injuries do.

But what I worry about the most

Is the 'injury' to YOU.

*

Of course, you'll never read this!

I doubt if you can read!

But the thought of this wanton behaviour

Really makes my old heart bleed!

*