I lose my fingers keeping count
the number of kids lost by murder count
in the eastern districts media houses dread
Patches of brown-black roofs on aerial view
Aunt hills of buildings single roomed
Shoot to kill, a governing tool
Stiff figures of teens bullet riddled
a common thing amongst those
shortlisted by fate to call home
Survival be the theme
U haven't heard of Vumilia
a small suburb rich in thugs
at least that's the word best used
by the papers you so dearly trust
To denote a group of youths
unexposed to a mastery of trades
The elderly in their twenties
those swift enough to dodge bullets
agile enough to survive the batsmen
and have caught the eyes of political dignitaries
war veterans with all due respect
Kim was almost nineteen
died graffited with bullet holes
Sarah was barely seventeen
wrong place at the wrong time
shooter: a blue boy in his fortys
We hath from a vicinity
where weakness is a rare condition
and the site of a parked car
sparks a dollar bill imagery
crowded class rooms, empty bellies
a deadbeat government
a thing called hope
At Rio David stole solid gold in boccia,
With a score of 5-0, won it unquestionably,
Flashing punk blue hair, his hairdresser,
Gave him a discount for his flamboyancy.
With spastic quadriplegia cerebral palsy,
He throws the ball in team and individuals,
As near as he can to the jack, successfully,
He’s loved by Cedar and Treloars schools.
Born on the 2nd March 1989 in Eastleigh,
Hampshire, he won with his GB team a gold,
At the 2008 Beijing Paralympics heavy,
Then in 2012, won a silver and bronze bold.
David stormed the Europa Cup in Norway,
In 2011 to win gold, and in Befast the Worlds,
He took bronze. He studies hard at university,
Aerospace Engineering for WW II’s Concords.
“When it’s close I have to use the energy
I will. With the crowd it’s great because, [ok],
you can get them on your side and [easily]
psyche out your opponent [to win the day].”