Ways from home

Hands tightening, my neck is broken 

From the front to the back his batons a choken

Fear in my body for my posture is a slopen 

Cheer in the voices from the violence of hate 

Screaming death to us all, it must be our fate

Hollering for mama to open the gate.

See you later they said, just you wait.

Get on home boys, he said and don’t be late.

No where to run,

I guess they were having fun,

I got you now boy, they said it was a gun.

Sincerely, from the grave,  your loving little son
Copyright © | Year Posted 2025

Poem

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Daniel Avatar
April 18, 2026 at 4:04 AM
A sad ending, Me me...
Hind Avatar
May 14, 2025 at 9:11 AM
This is very sad. :( Didn't expect this from the title -
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