Someone call a doctor, or someone call a nurse.
Then, someone call the cops and someone call the hearse.
She’s lying in the trenches and face down in the dirt.
Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens,
They could not save her from friends bent on killing.
So, someone call an ambulance, someone call a copter.
Then, call up all the morgues and spread around the ashes!
She’s rotting on the sidelines.
Stained shattered glass passions.
Ocean eyes opened wide, but paled by the
All because another threw down the
So, call up the rescuer, or the hands that hold boulders.
Then, ask for the funerals and prepare the glossy headstones.
“Here lies the girl”
the exception to grace
None will be given.
Go right ahead!
Step on her face.