Death of an Innocent
I went to a party, Mum, I remembered what you said.
You told me not to drink Mum, so I drank soda instead.
I really felt proud inside, Mum, the way you said I would.
I didn’t drink and drive, Mum, though the others said I should.
1 know 1 did the right thing, Mum. I know you are always right.
Now the party is finally ending, Mum, and everyone’s driving out of sight,
As I got into my car, Mum, I knew I’d get home in one piece,
Because of the way you raised me, so responsible and sweet.
I started to drive away, Mum, but as I pulled onto the road,
The other car didn’t see me, Mum, and hit me like a load.
As I lay there on the pavement, Mum, I hear a policeman say,
The other guy is drunk, Mum, but I’m the one who’ll pay.
I’m lying here dying, Mum. I wish you’d get here soon.
How could this happen to me, Mum? My life just burst like a balloon.
There is blood all around me, Mum, and most of it is mine.
I hear the medic say, Mum, I’ll surely die in a short time.
I just wanted to tell you, Mum, I swear I didn’t drink.
It was the others, Mum, the others didn’t think.
He was probably at the same party as I,
The only difference is, he drank, and I will die.
Why do people drink, Mum? It can ruin your whole life.
I’m feeling sharp pains now, pains just like a knife.
The guy who hit me is walking, Mum, and I don’t think it’s fair.
I’m lying here dying, and all he can do is stare.
Tell my brother not to cry, mum. Tell Daddy to be brave,
And when I go to Heaven, Mum, put “Daddy’s Girl” on my grave.
Someone should have told him, Mum, not to drink and drive.
If only they had told him, Mum, I would still be alive.
My breath is getting shorter, Mum. I’m getting ~ scared,
Please don’t cry for me, Mum. When I needed you, you were always there.
I have one last question, Mum, before I say good-bye:
“I didn’t drink and drive, so why am I the one to die?
|The most Beautiful Flower
The park bench was deserted as I sat down to read Beneath the long, straggly branches of an old willow tree.Disillusioned by life with good reason to frown, For the world was intent on dragging me down.And if that weren’t enough to ruin my day, A young boy out of breath approached me, all tired from play.He stood right before me with his head tilted down And said with great excitement, “Look what I found!”
In his hand was a flower, and what a pitiful sight, With its petals all worn-not enough rain, or too little light.
Wanting him to take his dead flower and go off to play, I faked a small smile and then shifted away.
But instead of retreating he sat next to my side And placed the flower to his nose And declared with overacted surprise, “It sure smells pretty and it’s beautiful, too.”
That’s why I picked it; here, it’s for you.
“The weed before me was dying or dead Not vibrant of colours: orange, yellow or red.
But I knew I must take it, or he might never leave.
So I reached for the flower, and replied “Just what I need.”
But instead of him placing the flower in my hand, He held it mid-air without reason or plan.
It was then that I noticed for the very first time The weed-toting boy could not see: he was blind.
I heard my voice quiver; tears shone in the sun As I thanked him for picking the very best one.