Carelessly a seventeen-year old teenager sat drinking his last six-pack of beer.
He quickly finished the final can as an area street gang approached near.

He left out of the city park at the deadliest rate of speed.
The alcohol made him take perilous risks at a redlight of need.

A secretary-mother was driving her newborn daughter to Family Daycare.
Her small automobile was sideswiped by the unyielding vehicle ignoring the warning flare.

The young teenager saw a flashing ambulance carry the bleeding woman on a white stretcher.
Shamefully, his fogged mind relived his parent's stern lecture.

He witnessed the dedicated paramedics strap the screaming baby to a backboard for safety.
A wrecker was lifting his van where a mangled person was set free.

A sad coroner placed his cold finger against the bloody neck and shook his head.
Yet the young lad never realized he had entered the realm of the dead.

The morgue station wagon opened its door to reveal a zippered bag.
Alcohol had taken the teenager for his last trip on his favorite drag.

Nobody could hear his final pleas as he was enclosed for transport to the funeral home.
Expensive basketball sneakers were left beside his van on the fertile loam.

His grieving parents were seen as the sheet was drawn from his face.
It was heartbreaking to see their son lying in this resting place.

They were led away with tears trickling from their saddened eyes.
The world of alcohol was a real burden they always did despise.

"Mom! Dad! Don't leave me in this cold room all alone to convict."
"I'm so sorry that I did awful things in this habitual conflict."

"Lord, I have not even finished my junior year of school yet."
"Please allow me another chance for you and I haven't properly met."

"There is no light in this cushioned box to be found."
"Please listen to me! Is anyone around?"

"Why am I moving in this box with the fastened lid?"
"I feel a bone-shaking jolt as if being slid."

"They have dumped a load of dirt on my rose-covered crate."
"While the preacher intones about the hands of fate."

"Dad, what happened to the voices and crying I heard."
"Someone is calling me with a soothing word."

But the sobbing teenager was never answered in his fate.
For alcohol had tempted him into the jaws of death's wait.

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