Abe Lincoln

A Writer's Cramp poem: A countdown, up, and down, down of Abraham Lincoln driving a car



Abe
Lincoln
Went to town
Last Saturday
To drive in a car.
First he sat on the roof
And said, “Giddy-up, you car.”
The car stayed still, so he came down
And decided to settle inside.
But still that little car refused to budge.

“Use the key,” said a tiny neighbor boy.
Abe turned it on, and pedal to floor,
The auto shot off down the street.
“Oh, what fun!” laughed Abe as he drove.
The trees and people soared by
And Abe waved cheerfully.
He ran a stop sign.
A siren blared.
Abe went on.
“Oh, no!”
Oops!

“Halt!”
Was yelled.
Abe heard it,
But he went on.
Poor man couldn’t stop!
Traffic halted everywhere
As people stared at the hat,
And good old Abe as he dashed by.
Blue lights flashing and sirens screeching
Then at last the car stopped, but Abe was gone.

“Where?”
All asked.
Police searched.
People questioned.
Where had old Abe gone?
“Why he’s dead,” said a boy.
“Dead since 1865.”
Everyone looked at each other.
Then they stared at the now empty car.
His bowler was found, but no sight of Abe.
And all knew -- some mysteries can’t be solved.