Capped

No one ever likes the sound.

No one wants to be he one whose hit.

We can all run, but one by one we all fall.

Our souls cant be touched but our bodies can be pierced.

The hate can reach us just as fast as love can.

Those bullets leave holes and wounds that bleed.

This has to end....Or you and I will be no more

This poem is about: 
Our world

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