Like a Train Wreck

I try to take the high road, and not look at the destruction; ravaged bodies, still spinning wheels, massive iron body on it's side spilling it's passengers.
So many thought it was a safe vehicle, like the Titanic, unsinkable. And may-be, with the right engineer, with or without icebergs, it would have been. Unsinkable.
But it wasn't the right engineer. Was he talking on his cell phone instead of steering? Were there too many passengers for the sharp turns? Were sharp turns even needed?
As the great train began it's plunge, some passengers tried to jump off before disaster. Some were able to, other's held on for too long.
I try not to look, it just upsets me, and after all, there is nothing I can do. Except watch, worry and fret.
Useless.
Watching the stock market.