Past
The little boy chased his pendant rolling on the road ahead,
Broken free from its quite well-worn thread.
The lights turned green, then the lights turned red,
A flurry of memories took over my head…
It had been six whole months since that fateful day,
The pain had gone but the fear chose to stay.
“She’d been drunk when it happened” they’d say,
When I’d woken up the next day,
With a throbbing head and an arm that did naught but lay.
I was lucky to be alive and I’d been told to pray.
Even heaven and hell didn’t want me that day.The day I decided I’d renounce this existence,
And rid this world of my insignificant presence.I’d stepped in front of her car,
Conscious and aware that my death wouldn’t be far,
Yet the blame had gone to her for driving drunk from the bar.I couldn’t speak to admit my folly,
I had to put on a mask of spurious jolly.
I’d felt the pain of life and I’d felt the pain of death,
My hollow heart had beat to the rhythm of the reaper’s breath.
…At this very crossing had I made that choice,
I was now but a craven, without any voice.
I watched the little boy with his arm in a cast,
And a speeding vehicle coming up on him fast,
I dashed forward to save him, breaking free at last,
I would not let his future fall prey to my past.
