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You were a faithful friend on many adventures over many thousand miles. Together, we spattered legions of our mosquito foes upon your grille. Within your cab we enjoyed hours uncounted of beloved audiobooks and favorite tunes. But, alas, we were rear-ended and you are totaled. They say, "There's no silver bullet." There was one.
May you ride eternal on the highways of Valhalla, forever shiny and chrome.
Once upon a morning dreary,
On a wibbly-wobbly urban prairie,
I hit the road barely fearing -
As the fool who has no fearing -
And there came a car.

In a sudden, asked is it the end,
I'm not surprised, but how to pretend,
While I am always steering -
Just as badly as the driver's steering -
My emotions behind a striped bar.

Since the moment was so sneaky,
And the car's break creaked up creepy,
At least for the people seeing -
Hearing, if people were ever existing -
And not just imaginaire.

In that second's timeless land,
I had no social expression to send,
Signing to them that I'm living -
Lying to them I'm a human being -
So, I just stood bare.

And behind that timeless scene,
Angry drivers and people were seen,
With me standing there -
A guilty criminal sharing his despair -
A social monster without cover.
Nigdaw Sep 22
I follow the slow funeralistic parade
Too late to escape, warning came
On the radio, way past my last exit
I wonder who has died today?
Cars pass what were once shiny projectiles
Such as they, but are now soulless wrecks
Burnt out, like X-rays.

Who fell asleep at the wheel
Or made that last telephone call
That just couldn’t wait, while
Still chasing time in the fast lane,
To catch up with a schedule that now
Is as redundant as the chunk of metal
He was still trying to pay for.

Flashing lights mark the perimeter
Of some executive’s last stand
An accident? Perhaps, but maybe
Life just became that bit too quick
And caught up with him
An overdose of technology, leading to
A breakdown in human capacity.

We, the survivors, look on with grief
That could’ve been me! But not
Thankfully today, speeding on our way
Soon forgetting the graphic lesson
Someone gave their all to paint
But we have to look, just to see
If anyone has really died today.
आज काललाई जितियो
कसो उसले बिताएको

चार चक्के दानव
शैली : प्रयोगात्मक
विषय:अझै धेरै छ हेर्न, लेखेको कस्ले पो टार्छ र ?
izzn Aug 15
Madam Elly arrived early
Parked her car nearby the abbey
Then walked to the school's alley
She had to stop for a moment
'cause she's now in her fifties,
and she need to breathe
so she took a breath, one so deep;

The air was a crispy breeze,
and she thanked God for it.
Then, she headed to her office.
As she passed the pantry,
she saw Ali
under the kitchen sink.

She approached him,
asked him how he's doing
and why he's down on his knees.
Then, she noticed
the droplets of tears in his fist,
ones from a weeping.

She asked him
the cause of him
to despair like this.
With trembling lips,
he said that morning,
his parents drove him.

He paused and weep,
shrieked in agony,
and continue the story.

He said they were in a hurry
as they got places to be.
He said in car, they were laughing
'cause his dad is funny.
He said in laughs, they were hugging
'cause his mom is loving.

He said it was one minute before thirty,
when a lorry came crashing in,
and murdered his only family,
with full of cruelty,

And he stopped the story
to cry heavily.

In cries, there was crimson red on their seats,
and he screamed loudly, frantically, helplessly, hoping
that someone would be helping.

But it was too early,
and there was nobody,
not a thing.

And he drained his energy
panicking on the whole tragic scene.

After the tragedy,
he walked wearily to the school's alley
'cause he don't know where else to be.

He cried and said he's sorry
and Madam Elly could do nothing,
but hugged him lovingly.

She then dialled the police
to tell them about the tragedy.

After that, she said to Ali
to not be worry, to not be sorry,
as his arrival was still early.

So, she brought him to his classroom seat
and she smiled at him
and said "you're a strong boy Ali".

And then, she continued her duty
teaching him his favourite subject, Mathematics,
like how teachers did,
even though she only teach
even though that day was
on a school break
and Ali's heart
no longer have a beat.

But Madam Elly,
being the teacher that she is,
continued doing her duty
teaching kids,
no matter who it is,
alive or no longer breathe.
What do you think about this story?
This is based on a true event experienced by someone I know. Haunting and chilling.
Feel free to add a piece of your minds below!
Thera Lance Aug 11
She’s holding the flat popcorn bag in hand,
Giggling into the phone while the boy
Idles time away rereading a well-worn tale.

It expands,
The bag in hand
Blowing up past her fingers
Onto countertops and kitchen floors.
Partially cooked kernels skid away
From giggles rising to shrieks
That shatter the lights around the pair and tears through the house.

The girl hunches in the kitchen,
Sheepish embarrassment erupting in pink blushes across the face,
While the boy slowly lowers the book made helmet.

His hands tremble, but she does not see,
For he shakes his head in exasperation
And goes for the brooms down the hall.

They spend the rest of the evening bathed in candlelight
Curled up on the couch with the taste of salt on their tongues
From the bag of chips shared between them.
Absent-minded girls with superpowers and the normal boys who might be a little over their heads.
fray narte Jul 26
and i sat for many years
on the passenger seat
of our ford ranger,
letting tears fall
down on the pillow
of silence and sadness,
of swears and talking downs.

and i sat for many years
on the passenger seat
of our ford ranger
waiting for it to crash —
wondering if i would crash it
or drive off a cliff
had i been the one driving.

and i sat for many years
on the passenger seat
of our ford ranger
disregarding seatbelts,
and wishing it was
the very last ride.

and i sat for many years
on the passenger seat
of our ford ranger,
you, meeting the snow storm, head-on
headlights fading
or maybe it was the last of bits light
ensnared by
the crashes and the blood
and the cars burning
on the side of the road.

and i sat on our
passenger seat
for the last time, dad.

and not anymore.
Nigdaw Jul 7
I saw him that day

Not when he woke, like
Any other morning, next to
The warm naked body of his girlfriend
Still muzzy with sleep, half open eyes
Searching to see his face, unbeknown
To her for the very last time,

That sweet smile,

Not as he kissed her on the doorstep
She, wearing his T shirt baggy on her small
Frame, hiding slim undulating form,
After a breakfast of toast and Marmite
Which he loved, but she had always hated  
The taste could still be detected

On his moist lips,

Not when his bike exploded to life
Fireblade thunder, exhausts spitting
Wrath and fury, the voice of an engine
Wanting to go, go, go, like wind
As though the Devil gave chase
To his helmeted head, full faced

Soon hiding death mask grimace,

Not then, but later,
From a motorway bridge, wondering
Why all the traffic had stopped
Checking for my return journey,
He and the bike lay across the lanes
A little way apart, neither going home,

Next week she’ll move back with her mum.
I saw the aftermath of a bike accident and it made me wonder why such an ordinary morning had ended like this for someone.
Joyce Jul 6
by mistake, a fleeting touch
i dare not move, nor utter a sound
the world spun as it held me
before coming to a full stop
souls leapt out from their windows
jewelry slipped off my wrist

for me who waited, it felt like eternity
for you, prolly a millisecond only
Elijah Lee Jul 2
A mother
Two sons
A reckless drive

Deadly injuries
Tried staying alive
Faces of tears
As he disappears

Leaving them broken
Along with hopeless
Everyday the notice
That their son was motionless
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