Abstracted

Crash

They say with heavy hearts

that we have minutes left to live.

Over on hundred in rows of three,

they all make their calls and

look at pictures of their children.

A man who has no one he loves

swears his money

will forever be

his number one.

A woman with scars on her wrists

thanks the Lord

for no more torture

in this pitiful world.

The voice of the pilot,

reassuring voice on all ears,

makes us the empty promise

of life to see our years.

I won't lie.

I'm afraid.

Afraid to die such a lonely death.

The ground is growing closer,

we're losing height,

blurry sight.

Mayday, mayday,

there's no winning,

not here.

My heart is racing,

pounding,

knowing that the last face I see

is my own.

Wait! It can't be this way!

I-