Written during the 6 hour car journey from Cambridge to back home in Oswaldtwistle, Lancashire.
The mother, who is pissed off, sits and stares,
To the husband she gives a nasty glare.
Waiting, waiting - this may not seem much to you,
But have you seen the size of that bloody queue?!
She holds the handle with an intense strain;
Her blood pressure could power the Mains.
F'ing and blinding the journey through,
Such behaviour could be seen in a zoo.
I am entrapped within this metal cell;
If this is not purgatory then it is hell.
"Stop moaning and keep your trap shut!"
No more will I say or you will kick my butt.
I may gouge my eyes out with this Parker pen -
If we do not get back by, at least, 10pm.