He lays on the floor still
like a sculpture in the bullet proof glass
on display at an art museum
Only he will not lay there forever
he will probably die and decompose
His wounds are deadly and excruciating
It feels like the blood that oozes out
is boiling out of thew wound
You can see it in his eyes
the wincing and the jerking
He's in a panic
Pain plus the fear of death
add up and equal a horrible death
Fear death not for it is not the end
Cokbod Lodwogo
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/panic-2/
