Stephen's Story

18 years old killed last night,  Why because he wore the wrong colors?, Guess we'll never learn to love each other, Crip, Blood, Latin King whatever we are all the same underneath, you are not proving anything except you are weak, In the hood they say real men carry guns, but no man to me is real if hes killing someones son.

Comments

JadeAreanna

My favorte part of this poem is the meaning of it; i lost a true friend to gang violence

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741