blood stained the sky of our little town
there was nothing more than the down
children keep knives in their pockets
just in case the others keep their promise
how do we save what has been broken
when there's no way to free what's been stolen
the lives of those children
taken by those still on the run
their lives taken from the bullet entering their heads
and they're aware they will never get ahead
so they wait to become a statistic
for them it's not pessimistic
society pushes the inner city
further into monstrosity
leaving the children the helpless victim
with no way to fix the system
YOU ARE READING
The Stages of Heartbreak and Grief of Who I Once Was
Poetryfreeform poetry describing the heartache of high school and college relationships and learning to navigate life alone
