circulation-cut off,

blood flow-diminished,

pulse-thready and weak,


The chance of survival-slim.

For society has crashed-


in collision with immorality

and greed.

It sped right through

the warning signals,

never looking both ways,

ignoring the 'stop' sign,

and never wary,

of the oncoming.

The righteous have tried

to extract it from

the wreckage

and revive it.

But the rubber-neckers,

blocked the way,

over-enjoying the carnage,

while slick 'ambulance chasers'

made the rounds,

handing out gold embossed

business cards.

The jaws of life are useless,

for the masses have decided,

there's not much left,

worth saving.

The crowd is hushed

and the only sound heard,

is the declining bleeping

on a monitor screen,

fading, fainter

and fainter...


society is dead,

and all that remains,

on the pot-holed pavement,

is a chalk outline,

in the shape of mankind.

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