white and red lights jam the highway.

they glintin the morning mist

and wink a gloomy "hello".

the grass' verdant summer skin

twinkles as the lights do,

but it holds a deeper prize.

broken glass litters the blades.

they're bodies lie crushed

and stained a deep crimson.

smoke arises from an entagling of metal

awkwardly positioned between

pavement and glistening nature.

a single arm juts out from a hole

with it's fingers spread, palm up,

allowing a viscous fluid to drip downward.

was the solitary limb pleading to god?

or was it defiant to the glory of death?

maybe it was just asking for someone to listen

but nothing was heard.

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