Wrong place, wrong time to stumble upon him that afternoon
The cars still passing, like putting salt in his wounds
Still alive, he did not yelp but I couldn’t just leave
For it could he heard in his large attempts to breathe
I looked around but there was no help on its way
I was it, a passer by, the man couldn’t even stop
For our machines have consequences so hey
Fuck it, what gets in the way is its own fault
I held him with no thought of stains until he closed his eyes
With no eyelids, I waited with him until he finally died
And then still – so still
And me ill – so ill
And now I avoid looking at the missing posters just in case
I even still walk that road sometimes by mistake
I remember how the cars passed just one after the other
They looked but continued just like the driver
I suppose they have places to be, No time to stop
Not for a girl sitting by the road with a dead dog