An AccidentA Poem by SMcIlhon
Sweat drips down his battered forehead and blood fills the sky. With the engine still turning, now burning, it must be time to run. His bare feet trample broken CDs, while dreams of safety secure the mind. Sounds of sirens, of horror, become his new life soundtrack as he falls back to the ground. © 2010 SMcIlhon |
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Added on May 13, 2010 Last Updated on May 13, 2010 Author
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