A dying man

A person about forty was lying on the road,

bleeding heavily from mouth ear and nose.

A few people standing nearby as silent witness,

the last few moments more or less.

The dying man sees the people around,

but not a single soul to help is found.

Tears roll down his cheek,

has humanity gone so weak?

A few more souls died with him that day,

humanity is losing its essence so to say.

love and compassion are scarce as such,

Is being humane an asking too much?

I look at his face and was shocked to see,

it's me lying there, how can it be

My inner voiced questioned me,

what if it was you in place of he?

I am not a poet as such, just penning down my thoughts and trying to make it look like poetry.