Friday, June 15, 2012
When cruising Pacific Avenue,
It was all about the cars…
Sedans, the flags of spoiled children;
Convertibles, the cause of social scars.
The driver’s dads were doctors,
They had in ground swimming pools…
The passengers, along for the ride,
Turned backseat, jealous fools.
Some drove Volkswagen buses,
To their own geodesic domes.
The passengers fought for a Mercedes,
Obsessed with buying our parent’s homes.
Some are rich, while a few are poor,
The pedestrians turned out well…
Those who envied our parent’s lives,
Preserved their houses and stagnate hell.