little girl

plesant as a peach

baby from the beach

not a lot on her mind, just pockets full of lost dimes 

little red rocket crusing down the street

the sun and its heat, keep making her scabs sting

sweaty and petty 

quiet and steady

       oh and how she didn't even realize they were gunshots at first.

glittery gooey blood bubbled on the sidewalk

little quiet huffs and puffs mubbled off her pink lips

everything stung like a bee


and when she looked at herself in her coffin

she knew

"rest in peace to my youth".


This poem is about: 
Our world



I hadn't been on power poetry for a while, I was reading my older poetry when I saw your comment on 'I spend my days' and clicked on your profile. This is a really good piece, you should write more.

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