Death

• Finn Dunn, Grade 3
• Poetry
• 2015

As the moon was high,
This night someone will die.
Running on building tops,
Running on top of shops,
And being chased by cops.
Running along,
Hoping nothing will go wrong.
The wind was waving in the sky,
The cops feeling shy.
The fight was on,
As the stars shone.
Blood on the floor,
Someone very sore.
Blood on the end of a knife,
Poor guy without a life.