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The ballad of the lonely road cone.

0 Comments 21 December 2014

The ballad of the lonely road cone.

Sometimes I stand tall on the busy highway,

Sometimes I look out onto the rural byway.

Of the road working effort I’m an essential part,

I protect the workers from the start.

Me  &  the ‘ stop go’ man slow the drivers who think going fast is smart.

As diggers, bulldozers & rollers pound away,

I’m there in the sun, rain, hail & what may.

 

When suddenly there’s silence, not a sound,

But a bird here & there & a distant hound.

My mates have deserted me; they’ve all gone away,

They didn’t make me legs, so here I stay.

My job is done, I have no use,

The only attention I get is some abuse,

“What are you there for?” they shout as they go by ,

I stand there mute & want to cry.

Weeds grow up & I almost disappear,

 

One sunny day I hear a car change gear.

Four young larrikins jump out & grab me as they shout’

“You’re ideal for the job we have in mine”.

Next day I’m put on top of a Norfolk Pine!

Now I can look out at Lion Rock,

And down at all the people who flock.

I’m needed again “Ha ha he haw”,

I just dread the sound of a chain saw.

 

Dedicated to all the virtually invisible & under rewarded who make our country what it is.

Written and sent in by:    “ Raynor road”

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