You start your day like any other,

A cup of coffee to wake up,

And a cigarette to start your day.

You get up for work, and then you put on your suit,

Along with your tie,

Slip into your dress shoes,

And get into your car.

You turn down the road,

The road that leads to highway 101,

A road that you have driven down countless times,

And you assume it will be like any other day.

You could not have any more wrong,

Or more overly optimistic.

The crash is something that you don’t remembre,

And second and third hand accounts of the tragedy do not come close to portraying the tragic reality.

You wake up to a hospital bed, with life support hooked up to your mouth,

And a ventilator  hooked up to keep you alive.

You finally talk to the doctor, and find out you have days left to live.

 find you cannot keep past events out of your head, and images that you would rather forgotten keep making their way ominously into your mnd.

Yiour soulis tormented,

For ou have but days,

yet you want,

No, you need,

To atone for a lifetime of past errors.

You start to cry,

With those cries turning into racking sobs,

And you find that you feel helpless,

And that a few days to live,

Is not enough.