X Marks The Spot Poem by Clive Blake

X marks the spot
Where a young child had stood,
Enjoying his friends company as only
A young child could.

X marks the spot
Where the child laid dying,
Medics there to save his life,
Desperately trying.

X marks the spot,
From which the crowd were kept,
The child's mother who broke through
And uncontrollably wept.

X marks the spot
Where the ambulance came,
The police taking measurements,
Photographing the stain.

X marks the spot
Where the piles of flowers were left,
Where the moving tributes were made
From those now bereft.

X marks the spot
Where the funeral procession slowed,
Where a community's grief
In rivers now flowed.

X marks the spot
Where the young child was struck
By a man on a mobile
In charge of a truck.

X marks the spot
Where a quick call was made,
The cost of this phone call
Extravagantly paid.