On the four way intersection of that narrow road,
In came the bus, recklessly turning,
Eerily scraping along the side,
Of my pride and joy,
Mirror hanging by a thread,
I stumble from the car,
Thankful I am not dead.
Falling to the ground, tears abound,
The last piece of who I was shattered,
Demolished in one moment.
Time to start anew, time to push through.
I take one last glance, at the awful circumstance.
A jolt snaps me to, back to this day,
Back to the paramedics carting me away,
Playing their tune of wailing sirens,
Carrying me to a hospital to check my vitals,
And ensure that nothing could be wrong.
The jolting of the round brings awareness to my neck.
Ah heck! Who am I to complain,
When others have it far worse than I?
Thanks for reading.