.
Morning Commute
.
The road is closed
There’s a train on the track
And ten cars behind you now
So you can’t turn back
The road is closed
There’s a wreck up ahead
Blue lights are flashing
You shouldda stayed in bed.
The road is closed
Truck’s stopped in this lane
He’s unloading apples
You’ll be late again.
The road is closed
Men are fixing the holes
Leanin’ on their shovels
Playing their roles.
The road is closed
It’s a natural disaster
You should have ridden a horse
You’d a gone much faster.
The road is closed
You ain’t goin’ nowhere
You’re in West Virginia
Your stuck right there.
Copyright 2015
Home Economics 
As i read this there was a hip hop song playing in the background. It fit this poem perfectly.
I was thinking more early Dylan, but, hey, whatever works. Maybe we should set it to music. With our bad selves.
Being a fellow Saint Albanian, you should find this easy to relate to.
Except my morning commute is less than one mile and I don’t have to cross the tracks.