Jessie Hopkins (9/23/94 / Missouri, United States)
Driving down the highway,
laughing at stories from the day.
Swerving from lane to lane,
all of us completely insane.
Coming from a wild party,
knowing tomorrow at school we'll be tardy.
Drinking from a drug-filled bottle,
the driver goes at full throttle.
Before us, a bright light.
With a crash, everything goes white.
Everything in my line of sight
was taken from me that night.
The driver, he was my neighbor.
It's my fault he wasn't sober.
The front passenger, my best friend.
A sign of forgiveness, I hope she'll send.
But the worst of all
was my boyfriend, Saul.
I love him so much
and now I can't tell him such.
The last thing he said,
I remember everynight in bed.
His eyes, blue-green like the sea,
held tears when he said he loved me.
At their graves, I lay flowers for each.
For the driver, lilacs blue as the water at the beach.
For my friend, daisies, white like a dove.
And a black rose for my dead love.
Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (Black Rose by Jessie Hopkins )
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