New York City
One day, suddenly,
We came upon a corner
Where I without feeling knew
Before anything was in view
That pain was sitting there, bleeding.
The car had become two dimensional
A cardboard prop from a skit
That no one would laugh at;
Pain sat on the curb, bleeding.
The thick white tarp covered the grass,
A piece of street, the human bodies
The blood they held minutes before
When life drove up the boulevard
Before pain held his head, bleeding.
In fifteen seconds I saw all this
In two days my heart felt even more
That I live to walk another day
To love, make mistakes and grow
Is a gift I value delicately
For death is a transition of an eventual nature
And pain sits with the living, quietly.