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duhjourney

If you don't learn to write your own story, someone else will write it for you

3 poems·Since March 2020
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June 20th, 2018

March 30, 2020

Blue and red shirt with white stars

Red shorts

That's what he wore as he stepped out his house

It was summer in the Bronx

Around 10pm 

Where was he going?

To meet a friend 

He sauntered for, I'm guessing

A short while before he noticed

Increase in pace

Increase in pulse

Increase in fear

White is a holy color 

Same color as the first car he saw

He just knew 

Simply knew

He began to run

he ran inside the bodega

The safe spot 

“If you need help go to find a bodega”

Its typical to hear that 

Fabrication I guess

He pleaded for help

He was rejected by his elders

Attempting to get away from the unknown 

He leaped over the counter 

He hid behind whatever he could

A few of the “people” barged inside 

Rage occupied their eyes

Seeing him just as he hid 

They knew where he was 

They gripped his blue and red shirt with white stars

And pulled him outside with force

He grabbed anything he could to stop what was about to happen

The unknown

 
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