Lucky it was not me
The scooter raced past my auto.
My heart skipped a beat.
He hit another scooter beside us —
a heavy thud split the road.
It happened all of a sudden.
For a moment, I could not understand.
I felt sorry for those who were hit.
My auto paused; I felt scared.
I wanted the auto to move.
I did not wish to look at their pain.
Luckily, the auto moved on,
and I felt relief.
Someone would pick them up.
They would gather themselves somehow.
Accidents are easy to read in the news,
but ugly to witness.
O my God,
I was lucky it was not me.
What was their hurry?
They could have slowed down,
could have avoided hitting each other.
I felt better as we moved past.
It would become another story
I would eventually forget.
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