The Tank Truck

My ode to the tank truck.
Oh tank truck, what pure power you convey,
Your pure green camouflage color leaves me awestruck,
And you undoubtedly keep others at bay.

Those intimidating men with big guns form a strict line,
Which starts at your truck frame with no doors,
And runs inside to where the money lies in it's shrine.
All the while I watch, as your engine roars.

I admire your bullet proof windows,
The guards pacing back and forth, intent on their mission,
And think how they stand ready to deal out deathblows,
And with this, my face goes a bit ashen.

I can't help but want to take a picture,
But a funny feeling of hesitation prevents me,
Gun shot wounds, i just don't think I could endure,
Yep, that would definitely be crummy.

And so I continue thinking,
That maybe an ode to the tank truck will just have to do,
Oh tank truck, you at first seemed so frightning,
But I must admit, I've grown rather fond of you.