Tuesday, January 30, 2007
On Highway 109
A drunk man in an Oldsmobile
They said had run the light
That caused the six-car pileup
On 109 that night.
When broken bodies lay about
And blood was everywhere,
The sirens screamed out eulogies
For death was in the air.
A mother, trapped inside her car
Was heard above the noise;
Her plaintive plea near split the air:
"Oh, God, please spare my boys!"
She fought to loose her pinned hands;
She struggled to get free
But mangled metal held her fast
In grim captivity.
Her frightened eyes then focused
On where the back seat once had been
But all she saw was broken glass and
Two children's seats crushed in.
Her twins were nowhere to be seen;
She did not hear them cry
And then she prayed they'd been thrown free,
"Oh, God, don't let them die!"
Then firemen came and cut her loose
But when they searched the back,
They found therein no little boys,
But the seat belts were intact.
They thought the woman had gone mad
And was traveling alone,
But when they turned to question her
They discovered she was gone.
Policemen saw her running wild
And screaming above the noise
In beseeching supplication,
"Please help me find my boys!
They're four years old and wear blue shirts;
"Their jeans are blue to match."