Crosswalk

White-dashed lines

consumed and chaotic.

People strewn like wind-blown litter.

Cars divide swim-lanes

against the entropy.

The sidewalk,

a destination.

A bullseye in the fray.

The driver

cleared out, all but a boy

in the middle, encircled

by the more fortunate.

In this street he remained.

Blood stained,

The holy angels convened,

and the news reporters came.

"Extra Extra! Read all about it!"

A new trope. A martyr for litter.

Mother, Father hire a lawyer.

A compensatory shame.

The boy is still gone,

but the lawyers retire young.

Reviews

[R.E. Ray]

Ain't that the truth! Last line says it all ("lawyers retire young"). Brief but powerful poem that speaks to the hurried society we live today, pushing aside humanity for business, greed, etc. Not sure if that was your target, but it's a bulls-eye for me. You've obviously lived it or watched it. Nice work!

[Alexa Apothic Red]

I love how this writing digs at all the people numb to humanity.. they surround us-buried in their phones.. too caught up in the drama, selfishness and so far removed from humanity to feel something.. you said it perfectly at the end "the boy is still gone." *gasp* rips my heart out and makes me ashamed to be among the human race for those who act so nonhuman. Your piece flowed perfectly together as always, but I just love how relevant it is!! Great commentary!