The Last Text

We drove with the sunroof open
So the breeze could tangle our hair.
We rolled through stop signs,
We ran reds as the others did,
And we pressed send on the highway.
We laughed, sang, and answered the phone.
We were so carefree and naïve,
Poisoned by the modern world.

Suddenly the music stopped.
Firm, white pillows of regret smacked us in the face
With a force so vengeful it could have been alive.
A powdery, nauseating smoke overthrew the dashboard.
Our seatbelts remained in their resting position,
And the glass edges in our skin were skillfully sharpened.
As the vehicle circled the road as our Earth does the Sun,
It felt as if our Earth had completely stopped revolving.

The shattered windows represented our punishment,
Though we would have preferred a ticket.
As the sirens wail and they dress us in the plastic,
We lament the invention of cell phones.

About the Poem

With technology continually developing at an incredibly expeditious rate, road-related deaths due to texting and driving continue to increase. The Last Text depicts the horrific way in which a seemingly harmless experience can quickly become fatal, just by looking at your cell phone. The Last Text hopes to raise awareness about the dangers of texting and driving.

About the Author

Thomas Troso is a high school student from Westchester, New York. He has a burning passion for poetry, but his young age limits his publishing opportunities. He has been repeatedly published in his school’s literary magazine, The Vision. This, however, is his first professional publication.

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