The Problem with Mansion House Parking

We turned into a parking garage on Fourth Street
Looked like a good place to park
But as we descended into the bowels of the earth
It suddenly became very dark
We kept driving downward and into dead ends
Beyond which lay more parking spaces
Soon we saw people searching for exits
That they were puzzled showed on their faces
We finally parked and feeling relieved
Proceeded to pass through a nook
Got lost and came face to face with a wall
A haven for rapists and crooks
Suffice it to say we found our way
But not without effort and bother
But next time I have to pick a garage
I'll certainly choose another

Sharp, Hot, Hard, and Jagged

Things have changed since we were young
We drive plastic cars and live in plastic houses
Our children play on soft, rubber playgrounds and mulch
We eat food from unbreakable jars
Edges, asphalt and glass,
Things of the past