“Thwack!” goes my head, pummeling the van door.
See bright spots of light. Can’t balance no more.
Closed out my phone call, “I love you. Uh, bye.”
Stumbled to my knees, my head hanging high.
Called my chum Em’ly, the reason I’m here
Coordinated as if drunk on beer.
“I’ll call you in ten,” she said and hung up,
so I wondered whether I was wrung up.
Am I concussed? I had seen stars. And my
neck mashed. From whacking it hard and uh, high.
Big ol’ thwackin’! A painful a-whackin’!
I pray the world fades not to, uh, black, and
but if it does, at least I’d’ve learned… Not
much of anything. An accident turned
me into a grave. A silly way to
die. In future, I’ll be A-More-Aware-of-Surroundings Guy.