Fast Jack Poem by Paul Warren

Fast Jack was his name
Driving fast was his game
He always loved his car a lot
Polishing out each dirty spot

And he wouldn't take advice
Thinking that his skill would suffice
He left rubber on the road
Each time he let his engine take the load

But one day his luck ran out
His mates have a tribute going about
Now 'RIP Fast Jack' on the back window is seen
As his life was taken speeding about the scene.

© Paul Warren Poetry