The Traffic Warden

A spindly man
With piggy small eyes
A wiry complexion
That says he’ll despise
Any who park
Too long over time
He’ll smell out offenders
With his nose that drips slime!

With a sharp pointed beak
And a heart made of stone
The warden of traffic
On the street, all alone
And dressed in a vest
Of green and dark blue
With peak cap and badge
He’ll be waiting for you!

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