Two ton death bears down on me;
I stand protected by a white line.
A twenty ton beast charges my car;
This time a broken line is my refuge.
We feel three dimensional security,
From a two dimensional line.
What fools we are,
to believe our lives assured by lines.
How easily the illusion is shattered,
In flying glass and torn metal.
But this is a rare occurrence,
In a society which follows rules.
Where we take our responsibilities seriously,
And live by our social contract.
But, as any social contract,
This relies on the will of all.
If you want to see confusion, even fear,
Break the rules, if only for a second.
Or look instead to others,
When their clean guides do not appear.
Watch them forget how to handle themselves,
As common sense flees.
Even now I sit behind a protecting line,
I spare not even a thought for safety, should I?
I came up with the premise of this poem one day while driving and just reflecting on the fact that I felt completely safe even with cars flying at me at 100 kilometers per hour (60 miles per hour) simply because I was on my side of the white line.
The more I thought of it the more foolish this feeling of security seemed, but at the same time it is completely neccessary to allow us to drive.
What do you think?