Down Desparate Streets

down desparate streets

the boy runs,

weeping seas of  tears.

He throws the gun;

no longer angry,

no longer brave,

just terrified and lost.

He runs.

Runs from the blood,

and the fear;

away from his victim.

Crying for his Mama.

 

All his tears

cannot return life

to the other boy,

who no longer runs

down deparate streets.

The other boy,

the boy he murdered.

The boy

whose Mama cries for him.