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Literature Text
I am the Killer
Through the eyes of a child
I see out the car window
There are all our neighbors houses
With glossy green lawns and friends.
Through the eyes of a child
I see the sun
It's a very pretty day now
Later we will have hamburgers.
Through the eyes of a child
I see a four-way stop
All the cars are stopped
except for one.
Through the eyes of a child
I look over at mommy.
Does she see the same car?
It will stop, probably.
Through the eyes of a child
I see nothing
Then I wake up
The car is broke and it smells funny.
Through the eyes of a child
I look over at mommy, but she doesn't look back.
Strangers jump through the window
And tell me to hold very still
Through the eyes of a child
I see them pull mommy from the car
They can't wake her up yet.
Now they say I can get out too.
Through the eyes of a child
I see mommy on a bed with wheels
being put in an ambulance
I'm taken in another car behind it.
Through the eyes of a child
I go to the hospital
Mommy is still asleep
People in white coats are running all around her.
Through the eyes of a child
I see doctors try and wake mommy
But it's not working
The machine above her head goes 'beeeep.'
Through the watering eyes of a child
I am taken away to another room
Daddy is there
We both cry together
In the mind of a driver
the very next day
I crutch into the bathroom
I have a broken leg
In the mind of a driver
I know my leg will heal
But there is a kid outside
Who will never again hear his mothers voice.
In the mind of a driver
I will never forgive myself
Never let myself down
Never forget
that I am the killer.
Through the eyes of a child
I see out the car window
There are all our neighbors houses
With glossy green lawns and friends.
Through the eyes of a child
I see the sun
It's a very pretty day now
Later we will have hamburgers.
Through the eyes of a child
I see a four-way stop
All the cars are stopped
except for one.
Through the eyes of a child
I look over at mommy.
Does she see the same car?
It will stop, probably.
Through the eyes of a child
I see nothing
Then I wake up
The car is broke and it smells funny.
Through the eyes of a child
I look over at mommy, but she doesn't look back.
Strangers jump through the window
And tell me to hold very still
Through the eyes of a child
I see them pull mommy from the car
They can't wake her up yet.
Now they say I can get out too.
Through the eyes of a child
I see mommy on a bed with wheels
being put in an ambulance
I'm taken in another car behind it.
Through the eyes of a child
I go to the hospital
Mommy is still asleep
People in white coats are running all around her.
Through the eyes of a child
I see doctors try and wake mommy
But it's not working
The machine above her head goes 'beeeep.'
Through the watering eyes of a child
I am taken away to another room
Daddy is there
We both cry together
In the mind of a driver
the very next day
I crutch into the bathroom
I have a broken leg
In the mind of a driver
I know my leg will heal
But there is a kid outside
Who will never again hear his mothers voice.
In the mind of a driver
I will never forgive myself
Never let myself down
Never forget
that I am the killer.
A poem that is just over a year old now.
Last summer, the day after school let out, I ran a stop light and was T-boned. The roof and door of my car had to be cut off for me to be removed, and I had a broken femur, or thigh bone, the biggest bone in your body. Other then that I only had a few minor scratches. After seeing what the car looked like, I agreed when people told me "you should be dead right now. It is a miracle."
The operators of the other vehicle were completely unharmed, but this poem explores the piece of me that wonders, what if? I could have easily killed some one that day, easily split apart an entire family. I never would have forgiven myself for that.
The operators of the other vehicle did forgive me, however, for the damage done. I am glad no one else got hurt, I don't have any excuses.
Last summer, the day after school let out, I ran a stop light and was T-boned. The roof and door of my car had to be cut off for me to be removed, and I had a broken femur, or thigh bone, the biggest bone in your body. Other then that I only had a few minor scratches. After seeing what the car looked like, I agreed when people told me "you should be dead right now. It is a miracle."
The operators of the other vehicle were completely unharmed, but this poem explores the piece of me that wonders, what if? I could have easily killed some one that day, easily split apart an entire family. I never would have forgiven myself for that.
The operators of the other vehicle did forgive me, however, for the damage done. I am glad no one else got hurt, I don't have any excuses.
Comments4
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Those words are so powerful! it almost brought me to tears.