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?
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