Poetry by Woei Hern

Vincent
by Woei Hern Chan

I wouldn't know where to start,
And I hardly think about it now,
Just a name in the yearbook,
Sure we've played ball,
Exchanged a few words,
And we were young,
Till you crashed and burned.
So suddenly,
Your obituary on that Monday paper,
Next to the football results,
Damn we lost another one.
Your call,
Could've been anybody,
But we were invincible,
Tearing up the highways,
Were you careless?
Did your mind slip off somewhere,
Thinking about the other guy that was faster than you.
Congratulations!
You've won,
And what have you to show
When we're the tears that flow.

Three bows at your funeral,
Tried to light a candle for you,
But I got burned,
Was that a sign?
Did you miss the pain?
Your honourable sacrifice,
Was for naught,
Yet if you could teach,
One of us lesson in humility,
That pride's glory be death,
It would've been enough.

Vincent,
I don't know if this piece,
Warrants a dedication,
Or as a remembrance of you.
I hate you for what you did,
To yourself and along,
2 others.
Burned in a car crash,
The other night.
Some nights,
I think about it,
About you,
Wondering if it could've been me.
So I'll wear my seat belt,
And drive under 100,
Every time I pass the crash site.

Yet still,
You never know,
How long your candle's gonna burn,
I hope there is a place for me,
But not yet,
I want to light up the world
But not the way you did.

Rest in peace, Vincent.
We still love you.

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