The Highway

Life is a highway,
I travel down through.
It's made up of vehicles,
both large and small, too.

There's all knids of cars
that you meet on these roads.
There's bugs and there's wagons,
There's trucks hauling loads.

You learn to stay clear of those big rigs
some times.
Especially, the ones hauling redwoods
and pines.

Those redwoods can prick you,
you won't see it coming.
Those pines, they leave splinters,
the pain can be stunning.

Then there's the Porsches, and
Corvettes, and Vipers.
Others are lucky to even have wipers.

Then there was me,
I was riding a bike!
That's all I had,
so little to like.

At least I had wheels,
until they went flat.
Then I was stuck there,
and that's where I sat.

The street cleaner came,
and it swept me away.
That was the end of my journey
that day.