As I walked busily down Barrack Street
Talking on my phone, vital things to do
Thinking of what to say and who to meet
I noticed a man who’s legs were askew.
People surged, looked away, and stepped around
Four blokes were pushing and shoving, swearing
No-one was fussed by this man on the ground
His jeans were down; there was only staring.
I couldn’t feel a pulse, his skin was cold
I called an ambo and hoped for the best
Others joined in and started being bold
Then a paramedic looked at his chest.
He was bundled up and taken away
I could resume with my important day.