...an Inanimate (Yattering)

An inanimate Blood - red spot Awakes curiobity Of the crowd passing by Still warm pieces of A short life Bits of human flesh Deprived of shape Reached by fate Enhances common fear Of the crowd passing by It's fate breathes deep It's fate witers nearby Smoking and coughing Biting nails He may recognize Half - dried drops of blood And a smell The exciting fragrance Of broken innocence The tuth's endangered So off he goes With a tear in his eye And the same Question - why? Slowly he dissapears Among the indifferent crowd Passing by...