It’s a Friday afternoon

We’re all rushing

We can’t get there too soon

“There” is home for some

For others it’s the bar

And for others it’s actually another car

Hurrying up, we can’t get there too fast

For some are running away from the past

We’re all overweight and miserable behind our steering wheels

Sometimes driving so fast we can barely feel

We’re all together at the intersection of red lights

I find it strange that they’re all red at the same time

We’re all stopped here together – forced to cease rushing for a moment

But I don’t mind

I look and observe the other humans nearby

A teenage blonde plays on her phone

A woman ignores her backseat full of screaming kids

There’s a 50-something year-old-man in a suit and tie

Who sits alone in his car and cries

Another man shuts his eyes

A Hispanic lady smiles

Strangers and their stories at the stoplights

A peculiar amalgam of human trials

All in vehicles no one can afford

We believe if we’re fast enough we can get more, more, more

The stoplights insult us by slowing us down

But I take the moment to look around   

A man gets out of his car and walks into the corner store

He goes in to buy a lottery ticket and some cigarettes,

Nothing more

He figures he’ll be in and out

When another follows him, certain that won’t be all it’s about

The lights turn green

And the cars proceed

Not knowing a man was left behind to bleed

Some heard the shot but had to hurry to “there”

Too busy rushing to stop and care

I heard the shot from the corner store

One man runs away

He’s holding something – what, I can’t say

I catch his description and call the police

I get out of my car and approach the store

Inside there’s a puddle on the floor

A man is down inside

And I see another puddle that he lies beside

His abdomen bleeds and he’s fading fast

I take off my coat and apply pressure to the blast

He mumbles something I can’t make out

My hands are dirty

And I’m starting to doubt

Meanwhile the shooter is in another car

Rushing to get away, somewhere far

He gets to an intersection a few blocks away

Foot on the gas

He runs the red lights

When all of a sudden there’s a crash

A short time later the red and blue lights flash

An ambulance too

It carries away four bodies

Those of people he knew

His girlfriend and their three kids

Gone forever because of what he did

He’d gone to that store to get some quick cash

Rushing the money to his landlord so he wouldn’t lose the roof over their heads

The guy that slowed him down now is dead

The guy he shot in the store

Was unbeknownst to him, his landlord’s son

The robber also didn’t recognize

It was the same friend he used to play with on the playground when they were five

The dead man’s lottery ticket turned out to be the winning one

It was now in the hands of a thief

But the cops hunted him down

There was no relief – for he was rushing too fast – he made it to the bridge before they could arrest him

He jumped off the bridge and drowned

The lottery ticket was later traced to the man who died

$56 million dollars was granted to his father, the landlord

The Hispanic lady’s husband owned that corner store

Her husband’s blood was the other puddle on the floor

The EMT was the teenager’s mother

The other EMT was the crying man’s brother

The crying man had cancer but no one knew

The other driver at the stoplight had his eyes closed to it all

Too tired from rushing to make the call

For he’d known all along that the thief would steal and kill

To get the money needed to live

The thief told him the plan a few days before

But the plan was something he had to ignore

For he was on his way to sell a car to the same landlord

The sell would be a big promotion

He couldn’t be stopped by any sort of commotion

Now there’s two puddles on that floor

Another guy is dead too

Not to mention the mom and her kids

I think on my attempts to save a man

Another failure of these two hands

The resulting disappointment makes me frown

The tape from the store later caught the words on the dying man’s lips – “Slow down”

We’re all connected

By the red and green lights of life

If we listened maybe we’d be better protected

They tell of ambition, restlessness, and strife

Sometimes the lights are tragically red and blue

Sometimes they’re even a yellow hue

Saying to slow down

We’re often too busy rushing – to what I’m not sure

But maybe more red lights could help be the cure

The landlord shared the money with many

The widow, the EMTs who tried, even me and the man who cried

Strangely enough he shared it too

With the car salesman

And the extended family of the thief

So much so they were in disbelief

The landlord used his money to slow down

And to help others to do the same

The girl doesn’t drive and text

The crying man had his cancer treated

The car salesman quit his job because he realized he had all he needed

And the Hispanic woman has hope for what’s next

I stop and think and accept what is

We’re all on the highway to the grave

We should observe the stoplights

And let the rushing cease

For at the stoplights where we slow down

There is peace