(A much sadder piece today told through the eyes
of somebody killed in the madness.
Andy)
IX
Broken in half the bullet
Splattered through his chest
Then pigeon holed
All over both of his legs
Shell shocked in a jive percussion
With the impact
Rattling all over
The glass next to him
Swollen all over the platform
Through echoes of muffled cries
Tweeting across the ceiling
Cased inside invisible shadows
As his ear piece
Broke on the floor
With the ghost’s voice
Straining in his ears
Between life and
Whatever comes after that
‘You did your best, Constable
help is on the way’
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