i don't know what i saw

Here is what I saw: A Hispanic man on his hands and knees, breathing hard, head down, face down, blood around his nostrils down his chin, dripping on the sidewalk forming perfect little circles, bright red and tight on black gum crud and dark grey stains. A tall empty can of Natural Ice on its side. A black woman in light blue scrubs clapping her hands for attention and shouting, "Call the police. Call the police now. You're standing there? You let this happen? Can't you see his face? Call them now." And all the people at the bus stop shuffling awkwardly, peering from the sides of their eyes. Adjusting their iPods and feigning invisibility. A white man from the building staff, white shirt, tie, black jacket, stepping outside then wheeling back inside. Sirens in the distance. And then I saw my bus.

It was over when I walked by. Except for the blood.

Now I'm trying to write poems for ages 9-14 but I'm having a hard time. For some reason my heart isn't in it.