Guardrails

A free verse or poem or flash fiction (call it what you may;)

Eventually, I will be left on the side of the highway,

I know that my car has gotten old,

But I also know that the newer ones

Have more that can go wrong,

and take control away.

So, I can sit inside my little car,

Traffic jamming up to the left and right,

Waiting for help or to be hit from behind.

Or break free, running to the guardrails,

Lucky to have made it across the humming lanes of traffic,

(they always tell you to stay with your car)

But for what, to be plowed into and set aflame

like that poor woman on the Cross Bronx Expressway,

As she sat in a chain reaction after a simple fender bender?

No, I will leave my car,

And take my chances of being mowed down,

By hundreds of other drivers who can’t or do not see,

Without the protection of your poorly made steel doors.

Eventually I know that I will be left on the side of the highway,

But I will walk away, almost glad that it happened,

So I don’t have to be afraid of it anymore.

And I will sit and watch on the guardrails,

And whatever happens,

I will be alone with me.

Reviews

[Pete]

love this. quite the declaration of independence. so true what you say and getting worse by the day. can't imagine stirring some artificial intelligence into the recipe. we live in a scary world for sure. better the devil you know ...