Screech of tyres, Crunch of metal.
The human debris can really unsettle.
Another few gone and forever lost.
The grieving ones left to count the cost.
And as relatives gather and share in their grief.
And time it will heal and give some relief.
But the dying goes on, it's a bad human flaw;
dreams shattered, emotions raw.
For the grim reaper's coming
and we're all in the draw.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
It is a truth that many of us know too well. This poem is a good reminder to cherish loved ones daily.