I hear the screeching of the tires,
The shattering of the glass,
The crunching of the steel
The clanging, the ripping of, the metal,
The scream and the silence,
The quiet stillness in the aftermath.
Then the sirens blare,
And the police arrive
Followed by the paramedics.
I wake up from the dream,
My mind and body shaking
Wondering if it is a premonition.
I pass it off, just a nightmare,
And forget about it after that.
A week later my future wife
Dies in a fatal car accident.
And I die inside every day.
And I hope to hell I never have
Another dream like that again.
Bob Boyd
