Wrath

February 24, 2011
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Riquan Smith is his name
And every single one he blames
For the death of his mother
That was caused by her significant other
At the merge age of nine, he witness it all
His father choking his mother to death, as Riquan's name she called
To young and afraid to say or do anything
He just sat under his bed and watched his life untwine'
The viciousness he saw in his pop's eyes made him scared
Didn't wanna get up from this hiding place so he just stared
He watch his father's fury build up in his eyes
Only to find out that that rage would move to him and multiply
Seven long years since his father's life been set to dim
Riquan, a ward to the New York state, is what they call him
A pretty intelligent, quiet boy, yes I might say
But he always let his anger get the best of him, one example: yesterday
Walking to the group home from school, such a long way
A dude came up to him and was like, "Quan, I gotta ask you something, okay?
Riquan probably talked to him once or twice before
But he wasn't feeling the way the boy acted like he knew him even more
He said, "Yo, why you dress like a bum?"
"Don't your moms have money to buy you clothes, son?"
A real jokester indeed
But this clown soon realized what his jokes conceived
Riquan looked at him with blankness in his eyes
And bang his head repeatly on the sidewalk with no reply
Blood splattered everywhere
Yet Quan couldn't control his self until his tears flared
He blacked out while he was beating this boy to death
All that played in his head was his mother's last breath
"Riquan, Riquan, Qu-" played over again
That day he soon realized what he had to do to make it end
He got home to his corner of the room
Top bunk- bed covered in gloom
Anger with his life and how it appeared to be
He was ready to do the thinkable to set his rage free
He took the gun he was hiding from under his mattress bed
One rare and only bullet- shot into the side of his head





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