Kitten Murphy writes "This poem was written by my son, Micheal Scott. This is his story of the week of June 6, 2004: when the devil tried to take him but God wouldn't let Micheal go. I share this with you in hopes you will pass it on to maybe help another teenage soul out there somewhere who is in denial, just as Micheal was on that week. This poem IS a true story."
Three sheets to the wind
I'm driving with some people who I thought were my friends
Headed back from doin some things I might not've
South bound 181, blurred dotted lines passin by like stars in the night
I fly by where I used to lay my head
If I'm not careful, six feet under may be my new bed
On I go down some winding turns and around a bend
To the house of one of those "friends"
Drop them off and then back down that road I go
I pass back by that house that I loved so.
God told me that this is where I better stay
But, I decided to keep going without delay
South bound 181, blurred dotted lines are still all around
Speedometer reading sixty,
I knew still that I was being risky
Within a fraction of a second
I was at my exit
Little did I know that ending my life was going to be in this direction
Gear thrown down in park
Out of the truck I successfully embark
With the words of God still ringing in my ear
I lie down on that couch with no fear
Sleep, sleep, such a deep dreamless sleep
Until three days later
I wake, with my loved ones crowded around my feet
In the hospital I was
All because I did what everyone else does
With tears in her eyes
My mom says, "Micheal, you were about to die"
North bound 181,
I say to God, " I'm thankful to be your son."
I learned the hard way as to what the consequences of teenage drinking are. Do not ever say that this kind of thing will never happen to you. I said that and it happened to me! Please read this poem again, put yourself in my shoes, and think as to what would have happened if God would not have given me another chance. Some people are not so lucky!!! -- Micheal Scott, October 31, 2004
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