Rush Hour

I got in my car in the early morning,

Heading for the freeway in perfect timing.

I had enough time to get off to work

But I came across one tiny quirk.

I had not counted on traffic today

The radio said my drive would be okay.

I shouldn't have listened, but sure as heck did

And so I got caught in an hour's traffic. F

Trapped in my mini convertible car

I wished I was away very far

I hoped and I prayed to clear a path

But I guess that God was taking a bath.

The road was all jammed. I was in a mess.

So I totally did my very best

To do everything I could in my power

But I could not counter the evil RUSH HOUR.

I FEEL YOUR PAIN, MAN!!!

You have just gotten an excerpt from my poem, Rush Hour. Not much of a blog today, but highlight the following blank space to get the answer to the brain tickler: It's in the middle of it all.

I did, by the way, write the now-published poem 'I Am Winter' (Who knows why I wrote about that). By the way, Rush Hour is copyrighted. Here's part two:

Into my building, so late I arrived

That I could easily (rightly) derive

That my boss wouldn't be very happy

With my poor show of punctuality.

For 15 minutes, he yelled and he screamed

Using a workbook, my head he beaned

I couldn't wait to get out the door

But I had to work, 'cause I was quite poor.

For a complete nine hours of terror

I watched as the market turned from 'bull' to 'bear'

Quickly was I losing my cash

So I decided to make a quick dash.

I called up my brother, said I had left work

Expectedly, he was kinda irked

I explained I'd been late, his voice, it turned sour

So I then told him about the RUSH HOUR.

The last part, part three, I will include soon

So until then, in you must tune

Republicans will drive me 'round the bend

So goodbye, please have a fantastic weekend.