Well, time for another weird poem. Enjoy.
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I-10
He drove down the I-10
One hand on the wheel and the other on the radio
Heading down to his workplace
Where work never stops and employees gain blisters on their feet
He looked to the side of the car
Making sure he doesn't crash into others when changing lanes
The long, white truck was there
With its blue arrow pointing to the driver’s seat
The works on the arrow said NORTH
Yet the truck was heading west down the I-10
So it couldn't be heading north
Unless it was going north by northwest