Each day is a new one for this cop,
A speeding car, another traffic stop.

You knew that the driver was not thinking,
For before he drove, he was drinking.

Suddenly, the car slid in the mud.
You stand in front of a pile of metal, stained red with blood.

And now you have to tell his kin,
That their loved one was drinking gin.

“He did not suffer,” you said,
“For on impact, he was dead.”

The sister asks God why,
“Why did my brother have to die?”

The mother does not believe you,
She thinks he’ll be home soon, as good as new.

You now know what goes though the minds of the family,
For this was no ordinary accident, you see.

The driver’s senior year was about to begin,
But his life was cut short at an abrupt end.

The young man had lost his life.
And the mother, was your wife.

By

Justin Lamb

Used with Special Permission of the Author
Copyright © 1999 - All Rights Reserved
and may not be duplicated without permission

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