Drive By
DRIVE BY…
In chilled onyx morning
Silicon tears flowed
Down the plowed valleys
Of ebony skin.
Silicon tears
Leaking from sunken craters:
Red orbs bleeding residues of pain.
In the cold guttered streets
A father’s son lays dead:
A lifeless body riveted with lead.
Another father must now defend
The cardinal sin
Of a living son
Who fired the fatal gun.
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