Empty boulevards, redolent of scorched tears, stretched out
Across miles of broken backs and good intentions, and
He recalled times of parades, all before
This singular day, which had lasted decades.

His feet, painfully blistered, throbbed like a broken
Heart across mutilated streets lined with
Crumbling mansions that stood vacant, looking down
On beggarly widows absorbed by hot pavement.

The sun bore down on his dark brown brow, while
A bouquet of needles dangled from his arm, reflecting a
Message across the sickly sky:
“How young is too young to die?”

Then, as fiery dusk hurtled towards Earth, he wandered
Slowly towards the edge of the world,
Curled his toes in the dusty sand,
And threw his body into the Rio Grande.