Buddy knew what big dogs do to wheels.
He could tell there were no brakes
When he tapped them, they would squeal.
Only speeding up toward a so sharp curve
Going straight was easy but this curve took nerve.
Maybe turn your head so you don’t see this.
Keep it in the clouds were you won’t ever miss
The sign says it’s straight
But it don’t say narrow.
These drivers, they don’t care though.
They honk at each other.
Trade gestures as they may.
Their still small voice within
Will never, ever say
Hey, maybe give this a second thought.
You may be caught.
In a cage of confirmation bias.
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