They found him in the alleyway,
right where the dumpsters lean.
No needle scars pocked his arms,
nor any wounds, it seems.

His eyes had dried with the dew, -
turned vapour by the Sun.
His lips unslaked, were raw and caked,
and hid his blackened gums.

Devoid of means to learn his name,
he kept no ID card.
All's left to guess and do their best
to understand his heart.

"Had he been good?" "Had he been cruel"
"To what life did he strive?"
"Will tears be shed now that he's dead?"
"Had he ever been alive?"

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