One fine hump day in May,
On a bright and gleaming sunny day,
With car gassed and my boots strapped,
And my eyes the night before well napped,
I set out for the mighty chase,
Almighty Dollar was the case.
Rolling out I went through the byways,
With lightning speed, I shot onto the highway,
Then I zoomed into the speed lane to be in flow,
Because in the hour called ‘rush’ we fast must row,
From Stafford Virginia to the District of Columbia,
From south to the north in hast to the District of Columbia.
Through my broad eyes that see behind,
My mirror, I could see my distant behind,
This jeep it appeared was at my very tail,
Pushing on my bumper, right on my trail,
A Jeep Cherokee with six fresh horses,
Pushing on my Corolla with only four horses.
And he zipped past me with utmost fury,
Obviously, he was in instant hurry,
Zigzagging, hop stepping, he jumped right in front of me,
Offensive words and racial slurs, he hurled at me,
Then as though that in itself was not hurt enough,
His middle finger he whipped out at me with rebuff.
If only I was not a Deacon,
And to my family, a Beacon,
Who patience must show with self-restraint,
From a deed as such, devoid of restraint,
Both my middle fingers I would have lifted,
Even if, my four horses, would have drifted,
Then, I watched him drive into the very sky,
As though he rode horses that could really fly,
Consoling myself, I felt my spirit wounded,
Still trembling it felt like I had been intruded,
Wishing in anger that I was a gun slinger,
Even as I fought the sting of his middle finger.
Revenge is mine says my heavenly father,
Hugging his word with care I drove further,
Then suddenly his license plates inscription,
I remembered with dead-on precision,
It read, ‘D’BOY’ yes is said ‘D BOY’,
Then it clicked, ‘D Boy’ Yes Devils Boy.
Still driving, trying to stay in stride,
Half a mile ahead, I could see from my ride,
Flash lights, Red blue, sirens not in a pleasant splendor,
Pile up, banged up, glass splash, more than a fender bender,
Inching on in single file, my eyes on this jeep I sought to fix,
Oh my God! Why am I surprised, D’Boy, in his skin but in the mix.
As I inched by his jeep all smashed,
And he gazed at me with his spirit smashed,
My mid finger clenched in my fist with the rest,
Slowly began to rise, and I yelled, Stay down! with the rest,
If only I was not a Deacon,
And to my family and to many, a Beacon.
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