Dogma

Belly crushed, insides
Exposed- you lie there.
Wriggling and grappling
For life.

Just beside you, I stand
Cursing the driver for
Not even bothering to
Look at his mishap.

Despite all the turmoil-
Out of sheer repulsion.
I fail to reach you and
Choose to pass by.

Maybe my gut would have
Churned a bit more,
If you were a cute little dog.
Or a sparrow or a pigeon
With a broken leg.

But who cares for a
Piglet right?

The empathy in my heart,
Seems, it can only be bought
With gold-plated tears.
And it goes unsold today-

Making even your blood
Worthless- over the dogma
That comes with you
In my surroundings.