Deaths of the unliving driver#

They don't go on vacations to Disney World This family exists somewhere outside our consciousness Just as the man who pulled the trigger intended it toĮvery time the infant giggles, one can hear the gurgle shortly after The child has a gunshot wound through his neckĪ stray bullet from a gang fight that found flesh and blood,

Deaths of the unliving driver#

Of a drunk driver who is still haunted by The daughter's crushed skull is the byproduct Staring at a nondescript hospital ceiling His wife died in 1926 from complications during pregnancy Just another young man willing to sacrifice

His name is on the large memorial in Washington D.C. You can see the mangled remnants of his chest

My last blunder, I've sparked the fire asunder, Goodbye. Not only that, but this beautiful bench, a waste, I lay, breathless and unliving, quite ugly, The visitor, he has claimed victory, and I defeat. The deed, I am no more unfortunately, my regrets, Nowhere, that's where I land, for I have done Of falling, I'm falling down, onto ground. The visitor, quite happily enjoys, the sight It sits, this bench that used to hold, now folds, It's silent, an aura of death surround it, ghastly. This because, what sits upon this bench, is not me,Īt least, not entirely or only me, but the visitor, I apologize, but you see I sadly, must reject it. Of my family, I admire their dedication, but I dash it, Yes I sit, upon this beautiful piece, of collaboration

Like the wood, from the strongest oak, that's unbending. Of this bench, upon which I sit, among other things, Strongest metal, I dare to say, composes the legs, Of the same, etching into the legs, of this bench. The bench, made of many things, like support,įrom loved ones, or others very close, or hopes,