70. Accident

A Porsche was rushing at reckless speed,
Its driver hugging his cute girl.
And in his eyes lust could be read,
F’r a minute he forgot ‘bout all

And did not notice a small boy
Who tried to cross an empty road;
And in his hand was his best toy,
A little model of a boat.

He wished to let his steamship go,
Go with a stream not far away,
Imagined how the stream would flow,
Not letting his boat go astray.

The boy was full of happy thoughts,
But suddenly the car appeared.
(Our life’s so full of ifs and buts.)
The boy didn’t think he would die here,

Didn’t know for him that day was last,
That nevermore he would have fun.
The car was running far too fast:
The last day this boy saw the sun.

He was run over in a trice,
His blood bespattered the windscreen.
The driver, he did pay his price,
He didn’t survive during the scene.

His car turned o’er two or three times,
His girl and he were both found dead.
Now answer, reading these sad rhymes,
Who is to blame? It must be said!

The driver who forgot ‘bout all?
The boy who longed to play the game?
Or maybe it was that cute girl?
For sure! It’s her! She is to blame!

31.05, 11.09.97