I never see a daffodil
Or anything as wonderful.
I'm stuck inside a metal box
And all I really see is lots
Of traffic; other passing cars
Same tarmac road for miles and miles.

We cut the country we pass through
Our passage like a gaping wound
And yet the road has brought me here
To gaze upon those rolling hills.
And is there poetry to catch
When stuck within a metal box?

So much for all the nature Poets
I can't be one and don't I know it!
Stuck here instead on tarmac road
That stretches on for miles and miles
Frustrations of a modern life
Instead of golden daffodils.

And yet the road has brought me here
To see in passing what I've lost
And gaze in passing through a screen
At nature as she might have been.
I gaze upon the rolling hills
Yet leave a scar where I have been.