A poem about drunk driving. |
He Killed Me © Purple Flame Mom and Dad, Hi, its me, There was an accident tonight On route 73. I took your advice, And had a coke, no beer, I knew I’d have to drive home So I’d need to think clear, But not everybody is as smart as that And went and got high this night, But I went ahead and left that place, I wanted to make it home alright, I wish I had stayed A few moments more The man was so drunk My body’s so sore, I remember hearing, A woman say “The poor girl’s so weak, And she wasn’t even in the way!” “The man who hit her, Wasn’t very sober, He's been on parole, Since early October, I guess its time, To bring him back to the slammer, So the judge can plead him guilty, And swing his wooden hammer.” Said the policeman, shaking his head, “Thanks to this drunk this poor girls now dead.” They began to put a sheet over me And I know the time had come for me to go, But before I went, there was something That I wanted my killer to know. “Wait.” I called out, And the policeman gasped, “Dead God, she isn't dead!” And he called an ambulance, fast. But I knew that I’d be gone When it made it here I just wanted to talk to that drunk That was going to take away you, who I hold so dear. I beckoned him over, And he looked at me with fearful eyes I knew he was sorry But he still took my life. I took a deep breath Feeling so weak But I knew that I Needed to speak. So I opened my mouth And the words came out in such a soft voice, “You hit me tonight because you were drunk, And now I have to pay for your choice. I have a mom and a dad And a boyfriend and sister But I won’t see them again, Tell my best friend that I’ll miss her. Tell them not to press charges And tell them its okay Because I already gave you punishment Right here, today. And that is you having to watch As death comes to call And then tell my classmates They wont see me in the halls. But worst of all, When you tell my mother, She's going to cry And you'll have to stand there and explain Why I died.” |