Impact. . .
Glass, shattered.
Pain, searing all over.
A moment to gather your thoughts.
You touch the place that most hurts.
Red liquid all over your hands.
You try to get out of the car.
Powerless, as the lock holds strong.
What's that? Something's smelling.
Oh God, no it can't be.
You start to panic.
Trying with all you have;
To open the door.
But it just won't respond.
Tears start to trickle down.
Out of ideas, no plan.
One last effort.
Maybe you can get the door
To finally answer.
But deep down, you know
That the battle is lost.
You say your last prayers,
As you wait for a spark. . .