I shouldn’t see the type of film where anger dwells,

where fury starts to rise in my guts and demands stoking,

where if left unchecked fire burns

and nettle stings my eyes and makes them

burn in their own private nasty Hell, no sanctuary,

no quarter given, no refuge, no safe haven;

instead all I end up thinking about is you

and how I was not able to save you,

how I let you down as you lay

on the cold Salisbury pavement,

the sound of an ambulance drawing near