When The steel doors slammed
And the gas started its mazy waltz
Through the crowd packed chamber,
He tried to climb on top of his comrades,
Searching for the drops of oxygen
To keep his strong lungs pumping,
Just like he did a decade ago,
Jumping with the wind and clouds,
To head the ball against the apple tree,
While his family all cheered and clapped,
So far down on the ground,
Where now lay the tangled mass
Of weak and young and old,
Twitching and kicking,
Twitching and kicking,
Twitching,
Kicking.

© Stuart Butler