Center Line, By Brian37 (AKA Brian James Rational Poet on FB/META and @Brianrrs37 on Twitter/X)

At slow speed they lumber by
Not moving at all they do not try

Yellow reflective on asphalt black
In pitch of dark that cuts no slack
The miles endless, I can’t turn back

Stationary moon hovers above
It follows me, like a stalker’s glove

High beams halogen, in apposing lane
Blinding my eyes to the direction I’ve paved
Faster my speed, the signs now allow

Can I make it home, I don’t know how
Now they are solid, I cannot cross
I’ve come to a curve, control I’ve lost

Swerve and jerk, back to the right
Behind me now, red and blue lights

Over to the shoulder I slow and stop
I breath into my hand before I talk to the cop
For an excuse, I begin to shop

In a hospital bed I wake up
The officer looming and wants to talk

I never made it, to the side of the street
The part of stopping was just a dream
Head on collision I heard no screams

Out of the fog I look up in pain
The officer was reading me
My rights again

4 lives expired at my hand
Despite all my promises
I’d never do that again.
(end)

DISCLAIMER: I have never had a DUI or DWI. I did get a roadside test after leaving a bar in my early 20s long ago, but passed. But that scare of almost getting arrested made me never touch a drop, not even a sip and drive again. After that night I had someone drive me to the bar, or took a cab or drive me home.

This poem is basically saying, don’t stupidly think you can handle your alcohol. You can make it home many times and fool yourself, but then that one time you think you are fine, you get pulled over, or worse, you kill someone.