I walk on a Sunday afternoon in 2013.
I walk to the store candy and a lil bit of ice T.
I walk wondering who this man is behind me.
I walk till I can't walk no more and I run
I run and I run.
Running away from depression, oppression, greed, stereotypes, and racism.
All the things that are bullets in his loaded gun.
Then I'm stop with a 9mm barrel pointing at me chest...
Then I take a deep berth
Then I being to wonder what did I do wrong
I feel like I'm holding my breath
I fall face first into the cold hard ground
Finally realizing what I did, I was born to be a young black man in America and now I'm dead.
My life was to short to be at the end, shoot it was just beginning.
But now it all over at hands of one man.
R.I.P Trayon Martian