Reality

This sallow sunrise September brings us,

I sit on the street side, waiting for the bus.

The newspaper holds of horrid sights to see,

Generally as I read, these stories disgust me.

However, there's no need for me to stress,

You see, those things could never happen to me.

As my source of transportation arrives,

I do not board in order to keep my current thoughts alive.

The woman walking near, with hair flowing free,

Has been stolen by a man wearing a mask the hue of tea.

My heart had skipped a beat, for I thought,

"Thank God those things could never happen to me."

Shaking the frightened woman's face from my thought sessions,

I turn a corner only to see an old man being stripped of his possessions.

How weak and drained this elder looked to be,

It made me ponder how one could do such things to he.

But this is not apart of my main concerns,

Since I know these things could never happen to me.

To steer clear of any woeful disturbances in my way,

I stroll down a peaceful path next to a hasty highway.

Young and lost, a boy on this trail wanders endlessly.

I wish to aid but I must get to work in a hurry.

Suddenly a truck rammed him against the harsh blacktop.

With sorrow I thought "I'm glad those things could never happen to me"

Just on time, I strode through the dark concealing doors,

Into the news station revealing the shining oak floors.

The report informs me of nothing to a high degree;

Two murders, five lost kids, and a shoot out at grand prix.

It's unfortunate that this could happen to merely anyone,

But surely these things could never happen to me.

The day sluggishly moved along, second by second,

With work all done, the sunset was falling, I reckoned.

My last paper was about a desolate woman of three.

She was attacked by men, and no longer can see.

Having my coat zipped up tight, I walked into the night,

Insuring myself " Those things could never happen to me."

I've never roamed home alone after work in the past,

But I calmly moved along with my mind running fast.

Oh what is making my head begin to spree?

The night is only a mirror image of the safe life given to me.

It is this the evenings say secretly in the silence,

It makes me remember " those things could never happen to me."

My menacing thoughts now laid to rest,

Once trying to eat my conscience alive will no longer get the best.

I begin to hum melodies that remind me of the gentle sea,

And with muscles relaxed, I unlock my door with a jagged key.

Thinking, as I lay my head on a soft cushioned bed,

"See? Those things will never happen to me."

But then the excruciating pain hit me harder than any truck could,

It grabbed my bare skin and pulled me harder than any man would.

And stole every last bit of peace in my mind without a fee.

This pain seemed to be stationary, no it would not flee.

I couldn't contain my misery and shouted,

"What are these monstrous things happening to me?"

A passionate, yet demanding Voice began to speak,

"Invincibility is for superheroes. It is only something in which you seek."

A second round of this piercing bullet was aimed at me,

Striking me in my thoughts, it must've been sent by He.

"Tell me what this unbearable pain is?" I asked the Voice.

He replied of only a single word, "Reality."