Seat Belts Poem by James McLain

Do you live here wherever you are?
With my freedom of movement restrained?
Getting down,
shaking a leg and then you find it is gone.
Unable to pay a small fine,
leaving behind what I have to someone I hate.
I am but a small red splash of paint!
Something's yellow.
Unable to reach out to you, I'm looking down
at not able to guess, where I'm at.
My sunflower tapestry sewn together now
to see, you and me love to live, I'm no more.