We found him

On our way to school

A sidewalk curiosity

A sight of animosity

A tale as old as time

Creature dies,

Enter the flies

Dregs of eggs

That nest in his eyes

His head, just the skull

Detached from his neck

Resting in the grass

Witnessing the silent mess

Writhing, wriggling maggots

Feeding on his flesh

Decaying, consuming

Feasting, reusing

Nature on display

We carry on our way

The day a little colder

Our world, a little older

A whisper of unease

That writhes, just out of reach

We’ll bury that feeling

So dark and revealing

Until it’s coated in dust

Until the flies come for us