Abcd Crash

A flash of lights
A loud blaring
A sudden sense of everything slowing down
An effect not felt before
A chance still exists to divert the course of action
A chance to save yourself

But now you're too late
Behind the wheel, there's nothing to do
Backseat, a child cries
Backseat is where the danger is
Backseat, a lazy compensation, incorrectly strapped in.
Behind you, 30 feet, was the point of contact.

Can't remember
Cant see
Can't Think
Can only feel a warm trickle
Caught out on that highway
Can't know that none will survive

Death is coming
Death, with it's head held high, laughing.
Death's friend alcohol on one side,
Distracting child on the other.
Death always wins,
Death never spares you,
Death waits for no one,
Death always wins.




Poetry by Thomas Sutherland McPhee
Read 602 times
Written on 2008-04-25 at 21:00

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