April 18, 2008
What if my tomorrow
Decided not to be a follower,
And my sun just stopped beaming.
Everything turned to what it wasn’t seeming.
Living my life on the run.
My mind always on that polished gun.
Life finishing incomplete.
Living a life I can’t compete.
When I’m laying six feet under
Then will you realize your words ignite murder?
Making me suffer this whole time;
Giving me the impression of dirt and grime.
Would your lesson finally be taught;
If this murder was what you brought.
To think you walked me to this early death,
Tearing me apart with my every breath
Still trying to grasp something along.
and dreaming maybe one day; I’ll actually belong.

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