Stop. Think

I run
I scream
I have visions of pain flash through my mind
Visions of my blood flowing out of my body
And onto my white T-Shirt
Now stained with red
Not a spot on my shirt is white anymore
I fall to a heap on the ground
I am no more
My vison goes black
I am floating now no longer in my body
Wait
I am now back to the present
The vison is gone
You point that black cold steel at me
I turn and throw up my hands
I say don’t shoot
It’s clear I don’t have a weapon
But you do
Then time freezes
Stop
Think
What do those two hands up in the air above my head mean?
Stop
Think
Am I reaching into my jacket or are my hands up where you can see them?
Stop
Think
Is anything in my hands?
Stop
Think
Should you shoot or just come up and cuff me?
Stop
Think
Is there a way to end this peacefully?
Stop
Think
What will your actions bring?
Stop
Think
Will there be riots, fights?
Stop
Think
Look or predict the future
What will your actions bring?
Stop
Think
You hold in your hand cold steel
You hold in your hand a killer
You hold in your hand a decision
A decision to shoot or hold your position
You hold in your hand a life or a death
What will you choose to hold?
Will you choose death over life when there is no threat in sight?
Stop
Think
Do you see your child standing there with their hands up?
Or do you see someone of a different color than you?
Stop
Think
Do you see a person or an ethnicity?
Stop
Think
But you don’t Stop and Think
You only shoot
You shoot innocent people
Ones who have done nothing wrong
I was not there but there is no reason you should poison the air with that awful tear gas
You poison the lungs of little ones
You poison their minds with that gas
Bam! Bam! Bam!
There goes that blasted gun
That blasted cold black steel
Shooting
Oh that awful noise
That’s all they know
The children only know that
How will they trust you to keep them safe?
When the ones you are protecting is no one
You shoot at the ones you are to protect
You shoot at someone who surrendered way before you started shooting
Stop
Think
How do you want to be seen?
As the enemy?
Or as the Protector?
As the fear?
Or as the comfort?
As the one who wears the uniform of the protectors?
Or the dark black cloak of the Grim Reapers?
Stop
Think

Poetry Slam: 

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