Spoiler
As you will soon see if you read the poem below, this is basically a very tragic story told through a series of twenty-four haikus, one for each hour. Warning: It may be very upsetting. Any reviews or tips on how to improve this would be really appreciated.
You might ask how I thought of this idea - I thought of it because of a true story I heard. In that case, a young girl was knocked over by a motorbike and left by the roadside to die. She might not have been left for such a long time, but thirteen people passed her before anyone tried to help.
And from that came this idea.
You might ask how I thought of this idea - I thought of it because of a true story I heard. In that case, a young girl was knocked over by a motorbike and left by the roadside to die. She might not have been left for such a long time, but thirteen people passed her before anyone tried to help.
And from that came this idea.
The first hour - Lucille
Speeding car; young girl
Unconscious and lying still;
Surrounded by snow.
The second hour - Lucille
The car drives away;
On the frozen ground, scarlet
Mingles with the white.
The third hour - Lucille
Lucille cannot wake -
Her face turns a patchy blue
Riddled by the cold.
The fourth hour - Derek
A man passes by,
A business man, mind focused
Only on himself.
The fifth hour - Lucille
She can feel again,
Half conscious, but unable
To move, to cry out.
The sixth hour - Lucille
Her lips frost over.
A woman passes; she tries
To scream; no one hears.
The seventh hour - Lucille
The third man passes;
Through her haze she sees him gasp,
Look down, walk away.
The eight hour - Lucille
Nobody cares now;
She will lie here in the snow
Until her heart stills.
The ninth hour - Lucille
She sees a pale face;
It is the last thing she sees
Before all is dark.
The tenth hour - Lucille
She lies there, alone,
Lies in a hospital bed,
Surrounded by white.
The eleventh hour - Lucille
Her heartbeat pauses;
They run in and pump her chest
And it starts again.
The twelfth hour - Lucille
The little girl dreams -
In her dream she cries by the
Roadside, begs for help.
The thirteenth hour -Lucille
Her clammy, cold skin
Rivulets of scarlet mar
The white bandages.
The fourteenth hour – Lucille
Her eyelids flutter -
Consumed by a fierce fever,
She is fading fast.
The fifteenth hour - Lucille
“Mummy?” the girl cries.
But she isn’t there; she died
Many years ago.
The sixteenth hour - Lucille
She sees her mother,
A silhouette lurking in
This dark, shadowed room.
The seventeenth hour - Lucille
The fever strengthens -
She is delirious, lost
To the world again.
The eighteenth hour - Carolina
She watches her die,
Being the only one who
Cared enough to stop.
The twentieth hour - Lucille
The girl breathes goodbye;
The words linger, directed
At no living soul.
The twenty-first hour - Carolina
Tears stream down her face
As she leaves the hospital,
Overwhelmed by grief.
The twenty-second hour - Carolina
There stands a young man:
A businessman whom she just
Passes, grief-stricken.
The twenty-third hour - Derek
He thought he saw her.
He saw her again, the young
Girl sprawled by the road.
The twenty-fourth hour - Derek
Speeding car; young man
Guilty, alone and bleeding,
Surrounded by snow.
