The road used to be maintained by the county,
Now, no longer tended, eroded in sparseness,
Edged cliffs with unfilled hole and drifts,
Of stone and dirt, winding up and down;

In the advancement of technology we’ll use,
If it’s a must factor, that better protects us,
With a factory improved idea, the specialty
In feeling the bumps we take, and what’s wrong;

Visions in the clouds, portrayed likeness
As floating in commercials, seemingly
Devoted to a child’s content in safety,
We imply that nature to them in agape.

©2007, Ron Globe