Stopped Dead In Your Tracks

The bluebird pirched itself
on the red light,
Observing the endless line of cars below,
each one anxious to go,
Yet the bluebird was happy
to have a rest.

"Why is red taking so long!"
Green mumbled to herself
as she awaited her chance
to relieve the restless riders
by shunning Red away,
even if only for a minute.

Late for work,
angrily mumbling phrases at the red light,
a business man punched the gas
the very second
the red light
changed to green.

The red light gave the struggling runaway
a secong to wipe the tears
that painted mascara on her porcelain cheeks.
The red light gave her a second
to realize that she can't run away forever
without being stopped.
She turned home.

All I do is my job-
a planned pattern
at which I change the flow of traffic.
Yet everyone seems to hate me.
What's so bad about a second
to look around?