Young man shot in the streets

Young man bleeding from head to feet

The shootings of this young generation

Is on a repeat

18 is all the young man whished he could be

But he was gunned down 

With nothing in his hands

But skittles and sweet tea

Parents are screaming and shouting

Why couldnt it be me

But God chose young man as a nominee

Now we sat and wait for the shooters verdict

Not Guilty is what they said

Now everyone is discouraged

How can this EVIL man get away with murder

Guide that inspired this poem: 


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