Welcome to a special edition of A Poem For Your Thoughts. Seniors, I’m sure the image of the mock crash is still quite vivid in your minds today on the eve of Prom; while I hope all of you have a fantastic time tomorrow, but it is important to keep in mind the message we learned yesterday. This week on your favorite poetry column, we dive deeper into the poem we heard at the mock crash yesterday and get a more in-depth perspective. As always, the column is organized the same way with two poems and an analysis, so scroll down and get started!

Poem One: Car Crash by Tammi Lane

I went to a party,
And remembered what you said.
You told me not to drink, Mom
So I had a sprite instead.
I felt proud of myself,
The way you said I would,
That I didn’t drink and drive,
Though some friends said I should.
I made a healthy choice,
And your advice to me was right,
The party finally ended,
And the kids drove out of sight.
I got into my car,
Sure to get home in one piece,
I never knew what was coming, Mom
Something I expected least.
Now I’m lying on the pavement,
And I hear the policeman say,
The kid that caused this wreck was drunk,
Mom, his voice seems far away.
My own blood’s all around me,
As I try hard not to cry.
I can hear the paramedic say,
This girl is going to die.
I’m sure the guy had no idea,
While he was flying high,
Because he chose to drink and drive,
Now I would have to die.
So why do people do it, Mom
Knowing that it ruins lives?
And now the pain is cutting me,
Like a hundred stabbing knives.
Tell sister not to be afraid,
Tell daddy to be brave,
And when I go to heaven,
Put Daddy’s Girl on my grave.
Someone should have taught him,
That its wrong to drink and drive.
Maybe if his parents had,
I’d still be alive.
My breath is getting shorter, Mom
I’m getting really scared.
These are my final moments,
And I’m so unprepared.
I wish that you could hold me Mom,
As I lie here and die.
I wish that I could say, ‘I love you, Mom! ‘
So I love you and good-bye.

: ‘(: ‘(: ‘(

Thoughts: Due to the graphic depiction of the speaker’s situation throughout the poem, there is not much to analyze in terms of depth. That being said, this poem hits the reader hard, as I’m sure you noticed by now, with its sense of realistic horror. The speaker truly doesn’t go easy on us as she describes her final moments after the fatal car crash involving a drunk driver. Perhaps the aspect of this poem that simultaneously infuriates and saddens the reader is the fact that the speaker is not at fault. In fact, she took direct advice from her mother and actively avoided drinking and driving because she knew the impending doom that accompanies it. Unfortunately, our innocent and responsible speaker’s life was taken from her despite her attempts to be safe. The profound question the speaker asks, “Why do people do it…/ Knowing that it ruins lives?”, brings up the point that one persons actions do not affect him/her alone. The driver’s choice to drink and get behind the wheel not only put his life at risk, but everyone else on the road at that time was subject to his irresponsible and reckless behavior. It is undeniably depressing to see a young and beautiful life lost,especially at the hands of intoxicated driving. There is one death caused by drunk driving nearly every 51 minutes, which every 51 minutes someone suffers the loss of a father, mother, daughter, wife, etc. This is an avoidable tragedy, and our author implores us to actively fight drunk driving and save millions of lives each year.

Poem Two: Grip by D.C.

I can’t go through the day anymore without that vodka in my coffee,

I won’t fall asleep without my shot of whiskey before bed.

I ‘m never satisfied, I can’t drink enough, it’s grip is tight ’round my throat.

Jack and Buddy tightly clench their fists and barrage me with their burning spit;

I thought they were my friends.

I thought I had in under control,

But they had me under their control,

Reigned in by my very own lips gripping the rim of the bottle.

My grip on the wheel is slipping, these demons are taking over,

I can see a light coming towards me, gripping my iris’ attention,

But if I don’t grip the handle of the door and get the hell out of here,

Ditch the drink and hold on to the joy of my life unlived,

My mother will weep at my grave as they lower me to the dirt

Mud-stains on her knees, the grass breaking in her grip.

-D.C.

Although this is not the most uplifting installments of A Poem For Your Thoughts, I hope you all got something out of these poems and keep the mock crash in your mind as you move forward into the weekend. Don’t be the drunk driver, don’t be the passenger in an alcohol-powered vehicle, and don’t let your friends drive drunk and ruin not only their own lives, but potentially many others. Let Prom be overflowing with fun, but also be safe and make good decisions! From all of us at The Uproar, we wish you a joyful and safe Prom weekend, NASH, and stay tuned next Friday for another edition of A Poem For Your Thoughts!