A second shift factory worker

sitting at the loading dock,

eyes on the time clock,

someone once told him

in order to get a head in life

you had to work hard, they lied,

his last meal was a two-piece extra crispy

from a local Kentucky Fried,

he was robbed then shot,

they found him on the rain-soaked

parking lot,

sanity would halt,

his wallet gone,

and the content from one pocket

spread all over the asphalt,

the chicken dinner lying in a puddle

near his head,

once vibrant, now dead,

his future would stall,

a witness heard the gunshot

and he saw the victim fall,

but the sixty five year old witness was nearsighted,

and he could provide no description,

better than three young males,

as his eyesight fails.