Thunk.
I heard it,
refused to stop.
I was almost home,
but my hands were
shaking and I
knew I had no choice.
The tire was worn down,
falling apart,
just like my life.
Another problem to add
to the list.
But that nice man,
he stopped.
He helped.
And I wonder how long
it will be until I
can be that stranger.
Until I can help.
(67 words)
2 comments:
It's not terrible, don't do that to yourself. Given the work I've seen from you before, it comes off as a little stilted and arrhythmic, but who am I to judge? I do prose with line breaks. I enjoyed the theme immensely, though, and I can totally see this level of disjoinder running through your head as the car disaster happens. Sorry it happened.
I can really see this happening. The setting and emotions come through clear. Frustration, resignation, perhaps a little hope.
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