Skid Marks

Skid marks…

You cruised into my ring
And drove through my walls
Like an obliging citizen you kept coins in my meter
Paying your toll on my lane – Until you stopped

You spun along for a while
Coming round my way
Dropping by everyday
Became a regular you did – Until you stopped

You used to screech to a halt by my place
I knew the sound of your tyres
You left tread marks on my curb,
On your way out – Until you stopped

When I look around all I see are your tracks
Shattered window glass
Your skid marks on my turf

But my track has undergone reconstruction
And you need to really be on your way now
Dust your shoes…
Pick up your keys
Rev your engine
And be gone
… You don’t belong here
… oh and pickup your bumper on your way out – It don’t compliment my swag


Zamezinhle ‘2009