Route 40 - Michael Bedward

The end of my fourth decade approaches
Lumbering towards me
Like an old worn out Sydney bus
Paint scratched
Upholstery sagging
Engine rumbling unevenly
And prone to spluttering under effort

I can see it getting closer
With its indicator flashing
There's no mistaking the fact
That it's heading for my stop
I wish it was one of those sleek new ones
With the flexy bits in the middle
And a clearly displayed destination
I'm really not sure
Where this one is going