killing

There was a shooting in baltimore highland homes. This is a small poem with a big impact.

Killing is never wrong and never right
Evading police everyday and night
Victims who die are both black and or white
Innocents burden sentence that are light
Not captured alive to make many dead
Ruining the streets with blood boiled red
Uncomforting to sleep in my own bed
Lost grown men still act like young little kids
Even wets the bed but their tubs are dry
Forever paints are low but they get high
Or belt to lose and still cant make a tie
Running blind everywhere with two patched eyes
Every battle we lost they are winning
Voided darken souls that are not shinning
Every dream and hope we keep on wishing
Raging souls of theirs, ours are resting