There are only precious minutes
when you are trying to save a life.
I think that it's time to
call it
because this choreographed
circus
is obviously accomplishing
nothing.
It was doomed
even before
the lifesquad came screeching in with lights and sirens.
Really, it was before the ambulance was
even called,
because you can't save the
acardic.
she is made of cigarettes and magic
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/afflicted-2/
