M. Richard Smith
The Wreck - Poem by M. Richard Smith
Turned and twisted, angled steel,
Scattered webs of glass.
Numbing pain too deep to feel.
Crimson pools on grass.
Flashing lights of blue and red.
His sight begins to fade.
Wailing echoes in his head,
But deaf to all that's said.
Room so white,
Light so bright.
He heeds the voices calling.
His empty soul is falling.
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