Poems Of Human Drama


My Hidden Voice

Dying In Vain

I am weaving through the traffic,
And I'm feeling rather fine,
For my thoughts are all but swimming,
In the beer and in the wine.

And I think I'm gonna make it,
And I think I'll be okay,
But the lines are getting blurry,
Now I know I'm gonna pay.

For I see the traffic moving,
And I hear their engines roar,
And they said I drank my limit,
But I knew I wanted more.

Now I hear the screech of tires,
And I smell the rubber burn,
I don't want to leave the Living,
But I know that it's my turn.

Now my breath is getting shallow,
And I'm looking for the light,
But the thing I see before me
Is a thing that gives me fright.

For there's darkness all around me,
And I know I'm going down,
And the water is around me,
And I know I'm gonna drown.

For I left the bridge a'flyin',
Very drunk and very pissed,
I was going to see my baby,
But the river's what I kissed.

Now the beer and wine inside me
Is diluted in the flood,
And my body's beat and battered,
And I'm tasting lots of blood.

So I live my final moment
With regret and searing pain,
For my time on earth has ended,
But my dying is in vain.

by David Ronald Bruce Pekrul

Creative Commons License
This work is licensed

To obtain permission to use this poem in a publication, please contact David Pekrul

Valid HTML 4.01 Transitional

Contents | Poems | Limericks | Free-Verse | Haiku | Sonnets | Short Stories and Narratives | Poetry by Tanna Lynn