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.
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