Walking in a winter wonderland is a terrible lie,
we remember slipping and sliding along paths
as cars, bikes and buses flew by, roaring past
expelling hot gases that melt further the roads
whilst Mr and Mrs Pedestrian fall on our asses,
bruising our dignity as engines laugh past us,
ruing that salt, peppered thickly across two lanes,
that leaves us, high and icy and stuck in last place.
“Use the buses, use the trains, they’ll be fine,”
yeah, if they actually ran on time, or in snow
but we all know public transport slides to a halt
and it’s your fault you’re late, you should’ve left
home yesterday to get there five minutes before
your shift began, and you arrived broken anyway,
useless and sodden, while out of their cars step
those bastards that left you to die in the mist.
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