THe Murder Scene

There's a body in the street,
a man,covered by a whit sheet.
Yellow tape surrounding the
crime scene,and a little girl crying.

I can't help but notice finger
didjets strewn across the ground,
blood everywhere,and a hand saw next to the body.
Little cards next to each didjet and each drop of blood.

The little girl looks so treeified,eyes big
and puffy from crying and being confronted
by an aged police officer in a faded uniform.

Her shoes have some blod caked
near the bottom of the heel.
She keeps screaming for her
daddy,who most likely is stone cold.

I shift my gaze to my feet
and walk away from the scene.
I brace myself for what's on the
next street.Only another day on the Murder Scene.

Poem by Claire.

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