A pedestrian strides off the street,
on an early evening in early November.
He whispers to buildings,
stands silent to a cloverleaf intersection.
Until he was accused
for walking, seeing and breathing.
Oh, look!
Lights from television now shine.
Through people's eyes, minds, but never the heart.
Oh, hear!
Rolling of the police car crowded the streets,
with only one prisoner sitting in.
Oh, try!
Walking for air, walking to see,
with the fastest deliver from the police.
