I do not sleep well, for your silent voice still sits in my head.

The darkness of the night,

lit up by the neon, plastic-looking sirens

of an ambulance

and the police cars who came screeching to a halt,

running over the dead

hotdogs, battered burgers and remains of candy floss, dropped

on the floor, trod on with contempt by the man who lost

his girlfriend’s respect because the sight of the gun

was off kilter and the way she told him off

for being pathetic, meant that the candy floss had to pay the price,