It was a Monday that a
(the headlights, I will not forget)
crashed into the driver's side
I know my son, he must have cried
off my shoulders my head flied
and the windsheild it met.
My son, from the back seat.
A scream I would never hear.
Never, ever, this I fear.
No longer do I have an ear.
That part of me is creamed.
The firemen came with jaws of life.
No hate I feel for them, they tried their best.
They saved my son from the metal nest.
That pierced me roughly through my chest
So I have met my fate.