Were it mine to count your days
Preset all the ways 
Your life could twist and turn
This event, I would delete or burn
As your breathing slowly dies down
The scavenger crowd lingers on, curiously
Grotesquely, your life ceases abruptly
In my mind echo your last words 
A tremulous, fearful, “Help me!”

Were it mine, to decide your fate
I’d drown their hate with love


© Saurell Boyers

day 8 | 15 June 2011