Just a Passenger

I see you on your phone,
Though I wouldn’t dare intrude.
You pause to check your text,
Which really is quite rude.

Your eye begins to blink,
The mirror reveals a lash;
A makeup brush is pulled
From within your purse’s stash.

Fast food is passed around,
Unwrapped and prepped to eat.
You roll a window down,
Distracted from the heat.

There around the corner,
You see an officer arrive.
You murmur to yourself
“When will people learn to drive?”

The dog is in your lap,
Having journeyed from the floor,
Until finally I’ve had enough-
I can’t take it anymore.

“Mom”, I say abruptly,
A little louder than I mean,
“I know I’m just the passenger
But I’m longing to be seen.”

You never even notice me,
You’re too busy with your list.
If you get us in an accident,
We will surely both be missed.

So put the phone on silent,
And leave the dog at home.
Forget the morning bagel stop
And eyebrow brush and comb.

Then think about your passenger,
‘Cause I will someday drive.
Be an example to my friends and I
So we all safely arrive.