That Piece of Trash

(This is a fictional poem) I'm in a great deal of pain because of the loss of my son. He was buried when a punk shot him with a gun. I bought my boy an expensive watch and a new pair of shoes. A gang member wanted them and my son chose the wrong thing to do. He tried to fight back and the punk shot him. He got the watch and shoes off of the corpse and he took them. I felt so much grief and agony at his funeral. When the gang member got out on parole several years later, I took a bat and caved in his skull. Now I'm in prison but I don't care. That piece of trash ruined my life and it isn't fair.