In the Streets of America tonight
Many hands of young students scrape the sky
The colors of blue and red abrace their face
As they endlessly march unguarded
They chant, chant they say “Don’t shoot.”
Then a pop, a scream, a body.
They scatter like molecules that just lost their atoms.
A friend cries, as their fellow drops next to them.
They hold their chest, as a dark red leaks and outlines the uneven pavement.
DON’T. SHOOT. They said.
As a young student lies on the ground,
For his death, as well as many innocent others,
will be remembered in the eyes of history and America.
“For my death will be the bridge that connects us closer to the battlefield,