Hot Rod Poetry

Rat Rods Rule

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I think I've finally figured out a way to get a poem over onto this thread. It used to be easy. This poem isn't even a car poem.
 

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I Stepped out of the shop into the dark.
Off in the distance a heard a coyote bark.

The night time animals were on the prowl.
From the tree line came an eerie howl.

I've heard it before.
For the little creatures a rough night was in store.

Looking at the vastness of the sky.
Couldn't help but wonder why?

Billions of planets, suns in the millions.
Here we are, insignificant minions.

What are the odds there's people like us.
Orbiting around in the cosmic dust?

Can't help but think that in outer space.
There's humans engaged in the same rat race.

Maybe there's hot rodders in another galaxy.
Wouldn't it be fun to look and see?

And what if in space behind high wooden boards.
There are junkyards filled with '32 Fords?

Enough of this silly night time musing.
I zipped up an went back to the tool I was using.
 

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