next to the road,
strewn childrens toys,
bike and ball,
then one young boy,
clothes cut off,
breathing apparatus,
i think at once,
why does god hate us?
And through the sound,deaths clasp ensnaring,
i heard a voice,plain cold,uncaring,
"prounounced dead 4.45,
at least the mothers still alive"
sir,please tell,what happenned here?
a crash?where?about 10 yards...
and with that no stopping my frantic mind,
the bloody collision of two kid-filled cars,
but as i walked and radios blared,
it seems my feelings were impared,
with death so near, should i be scared?
if so, i must be broken...
Author notes
Written July 4th, 2006
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Comments
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The poet in the poem presents a collision in a comrehensive way; it is a dire issue all over the world, out highways are coated daily with the human blood: the most precious thing in the world. It is due to progress and rash hasty movements that men, women and children are being crushed by the machines. The poem reflects vivid imagery and the lethargic effects on the poetess' mind are clearly felt by the reader. shanazar@hotmail.com
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