The Killing of Dreams…(or Little Red Car)

So I jumped into my little red car
and off I went. To save lives. I hoped.
The call had come in early. Before the sun had lifted up its vest.
Early. Before the rooster had sang the morning hymn.
The road to that place was horrid. As usual.
My little red car and I sped off as fast as we could.
Flying over potholes and once-tarmacked roads.
The sun’s vest lifted slowly, it’s yellowness attacking the sky
and every single thing beneath it.
I must admit, I was afraid.
My heart was pounding. The sky was falling.
Shards of sky pierced the earth and they called it rain.
I drove as fast as I could.
On one of those once-tarmacked roads, I met a wizard.
Now, he never claimed to be one, but he resembled one.
His beard sprouted angrily from his chin
and his staff…why, that was not a staff but
some sort of magical wand. He waved at me.
I stopped. His yellow eyes looked into mine
and fear invaded my belly.
His green shirt clashed heavily with his blue skin.
And I felt the magic leave his body and try to pierce mine.
I sped off. I had lives to save.
My little red car and I, we had lives to save.
The morning pulled itself out of the earth’s bottom
and fanned itself across the hood of the bitter sky.
The welts of water-tears falling from the sky
plunked down on my little red car.
I drove, I sped, I wove.
I got to that place.
That place that has no name.
I jumped out of my little red car,
but I was too late.
Perhaps I had dallied too long with the wizard,
him with the blue skin and yellow eyes,
or perhaps this save was never meant to be.
My cries would go unheard, and if I listened rather than cried,
all I would hear would be the cackle of that wizard…
as he stopped others on that once-tarmacked road,
letting his magic pierce their skin,
causing more sorrow than they knew,
pulling their joy from them,
as they cluelessly sped along that road,
the road to their tomorrows,
pelted with the rain-tears of their yesterdays.

 
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