YOUNG MAN
Young man shot in the streets
Young man bleeding from head to feet
The shootings of this young generation
Is on a repeat
18 is all the young man whished he could be
But he was gunned down
With nothing in his hands
But skittles and sweet tea
Parents are screaming and shouting
Why couldnt it be me
But God chose young man as a nominee
Now we sat and wait for the shooters verdict
Not Guilty is what they said
Now everyone is discouraged
How can this EVIL man get away with murder
👁 4💬 0
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.
Log in to leave a comment.