The Price of Paradise This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

Eighteen dirty children,
Playing in the street,
Shouting, running, sliding;
No sneakers on their feet.

Another day in paradise,
The smog that fills the air;
Seventeen young companions,
A welfare child's prayer.

The sirens scream a warning,
While many run and scatter;
Except for two immaculate –
The pitcher and the batter.

The batter taps his feet,
The pitcher sets and throws.
A crack, a boom!
The batter hits the ground.

The crimson viscous ooze
Flowing from his chest;
Calm, cool and collected
As bystanders and the rest.

The pitcher standing breathless,
His tears fall to the street;
The ball so far behind him,
His brother at his feet.

This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.






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PeterJoseph This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Oct. 11, 2011 at 4:28 pm
It was more of my take on what paradise is and how it can all be stripped away as quickly as it came
 
Teddy said...
Sept. 24, 2010 at 11:46 pm
This is so well written it has a lot of rythm. I understand that it has to do with death but it is a little bit confusing as to how..
 
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