The man laid slain, naked and bruised outside a long since shuttered Farmfood’s, A heavy grey rain washed his boots, while a crowd grew strewn with quandary. The adjacent road flowed thick with heavy traffic, while chancers strode between the havoc, A waif clutched a straight with all five fingers, sucked hard, then parked himself astride a bin. Gazing on with knowing nonchalance, a wimpled mother of six gathered her Iceland bags and kids, as howling through the static traffic, rattled a siren bound for the figure upon the ground. A coke can flew through the rain weighted air, to crack the figure's teeth and sodden his hair. The scene drew to a close, as the filth slowly appeared, to blanket the scene and allay each of our fears.