You might have passed me this morning
Doing 100mph on the motorway
The rain pouring down like sheets
And yet you still want to rush
What could possibly be so important that you risk it all?
On speed
I might have passed you as you lay there comatose
With the blues and twos all around you
And no sign of the air ambulance
Some miles from where we first met
For those few seconds I did not like you
Or you, me
I might have smiled, although I hate myself for that
But all I thought about was your speed
With no thought for the conditions or others
And yet here I am, working
And there you are
Comatose
You might have passed me this morning
But not again.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Superb poem..............Speed is what where we miss everything........10