“There’s blood on the snow!” I cry,
My words are like the wind whisking by.
Revealed in those sheets of snow so white,
Cultivates a crimson cause for fright.

Boots and shoes pass on through,
As the blood continues to pour askew.
I raise my arms, do they not know?
Can they not see the blood on the snow?

I panic, “ma’am, sir, child, friend!”
Words weakened, I feel my throat distend.
Will no one help, am I alone?
Does no one hear my boisterous moan?

My ankles pivot and I stagger down,
My knees meet the snow’s red crown.
My hands are numb, clenched by cold,
My face is pale while fear unfolds.

Did anyone see or was it just me?
Was the failure in my plea?
For now my body lies here so,
Covering up the blood on the snow.