Stinking Garbage

Drops of blood,
All dried, and crusty,
Sticking to her blouse, so busty,
Lifeless, grey and coldest skin,
Stops the anger, sinking in,
As we realise, all is gone,
The crowd, dumbfounded
Staring on,
Recognising what's been lost,
That noone cared,
As she was tossed,
On that pile of stinking garbage,
An artifact of worthless carnage,
As the lifeblood drained away,
Choked & stifled, ever wasted,
Leaving all that death has tasted,
Leaving us, with only rage,
As we resolve, to turn the page.