Only 17

One shot, two shots, three shots Four. This was the only thing he knew Father wasn't around to teach him better, And mother was working two jobs, trying to keep up with her substance abuse. He was robbed of a childhood, Forced to see things a child never should. And was thought how to hold a gun before he could tie his shoes. At 7, he witnessed his brother getting shot straight in the chest. That same year, his 13 year old sister ends up pregnant. He lives with hatred in his heart Constantly in pain and suffering, but he hides it Under his cold nature, no on suspects a thing. At school, he makes a couple of friends, Starts smoking blunts Because when he's high, he forgets about his troubles, As if it were the key to his cage of torture. He no longer has to deal with what is bothering him. As he gets older, he gets involved in more gang activity. Starts murdering rivals in the name of his homies. He feels safe and secure, but he's ignorant of the consequences. Until one day he was sitting in his Cadi' One shot, two shots, three shots, Four. Straight through his skull. Sirens in the background, he slowly starts to drift The light at the end if the tunnel is closing in on him He was only 17.