Ambulance

A must-buy for a clinic Insisting that she isn’t for a picnic The one with a restless siren The first maker of the deceased’s memory, evergreen; The driver mover of the ambulance For the deceased’s sake trifling with vigilance This way the automobile insanely serving That way the same ruinously curing Both the richest of sports for the non -living thing I don’t need to a diviner bring To ascertain that it would put them away in some shelf Still dread fully sorry for itself. But it’s now inglorious high speed with not a set limit By a driver trusting or praying not to end up in some pit; Always the courted, atrocious negotiating movements Long rehearsed on for daily improvements.