Anonymous

A poem about the crowd mentality inside us all.

They fed my body to the lions
on a bright and sunny day,
parading about my remains.
Crowds rode their passions
to a violent feeding frenzy,
shouting out with gleeful,
abandon at my demise.
As the roiling clouds parted,
unearthly silence abounded.
Their breath left.
Their souls wept.
Still I died.
Still I died...