Jane Doe
Eyes of the artificially embarrassed crowd
can't help to gawk, inquisitive, waiting for the screams.
So they can say they were there
when What's-her-name,
was pushed into the soil with his verbal skills
and kicked to death anonymously.
Sympathy stares at her impressive wounds,
but no-one will ever take a single fleeting second
to ponder what name to put on her tombstone.
Poetry by True Words Embellished
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Written on 2005-09-29 at 21:26
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