ROUGH RIDERS

by John King

There is a man that drives a car,

But I wish he wouldnt drive at STAR

with determination and guts,

his car is powered.

He will push and bang

and he is no coward.

It's out in front, he wants to be.

But he seldem goes on to victory.

Cursing and yelling ,

but never a smile,

he usualy winds up in a pile.

it's hard to pass this man you see,

He will try to push you into a tree.

Nobody gets by him without a fight

Everyone sees this and they know

it isn't right.

Inside in the turns it's hard to score

If he sees you passing,

 he will shut the door. 

When he kills some one, the officials will say [hes all done]

That will be to late a solition

Because all he will leave is

his pollution.

This rhyme was written like a shoe.

And if it fits,

It was written for you.