A young man, who may or may not be dead but is almost certainly injured, is lying on the side of the road as people pass by yet do nothing to help the poor man.

There is a young man lying there.

Does no one care?

Is he, like a doornail, dead?

Did he hit his head?

Like ants marching along, People pass by.

With a great gust of wind, I sigh.

Is there nothing they can do?

If you could help, would you?

I Am Poem

I am ferocious and pompous
I wonder what makes clocks tick
I hear the wheels in my head turning
I see flowers growing on the moon
I want to see the sun set on mars
I am ferocious and pompous

I pretend that I am a scuba diving astronuat
I feel a slight breeze whistling between my ears
I touch the whole world without grasping the significance of it
I worry that time is running out
I cry when I lose
I am ferocious and pompous

I understand that some things are not meant to be understood
I say stupid is as stupid does
I dream about playing football on Friday night
I try to make everyone smile
I hope there is more hope to be hoped for
I am ferocious and pompous