Are you working for death?

BROOKLYN, NEW YORK

My home was a building which housed the names of pathway syndicates on the interior walls decorated with pride. Designed with a blueprint of   rebellion enchanted by the hallway, it smells of defecation burnt nostrils. Night time was subliminal for “loose lips sink ships.” The echoing of gun blasting sparked from viral words use to infest the disease- infected minds of those who fancy profanity as a way of communication fogged the scene like a Halloween party in an lementary school. The end result harbored tape, the pigmentation of black and yellow, bridging a crime scene from last night’s genocide. Dices scratched the project wall, three shadows hovered a cee-lo game. Flight jackets on the back of last night hustlers with an interior and exterior of midnight orange peel, circled dead presidents and vicious words of insolence. Eyes filled with hallow souls converted the scene. Father time ticks as the tock of rebellion captivated the scene in remedial eloquence. Bodies flustered in dismay and confusion. Hearts pumped fear and eyes twinkled sorrow over mispronounced words, while the mouths shivered in phobia. His jacket dropped to the floor, it landed like a flower from the sky so elegantly and perfectly read for the scene. His hands clasped in deep prayer,fingers weaved with dirt field palms.

 He was a construction worker, lived with his mom and his daughter was on the way to make it past the 1^st grade. He was so proud of her, for that morning, before she went off to school.She asked, “Daddy, are you going to live forever?” He glistened with hope; she still had her imagination, naivety, plus a midget of curiosity the streets of Brooklyn had not stolen from her as yet. “Yes, baby, daddy, will live forever.” A tear slipped down to the crevice of his mouth, His voice crackled and crumbled as the bullet launched from the cold cruel heartless barrel of irrevocable decision, entering his last memories before his body hit the floor. “Honor thy sister and thy brother, for what? I got to eat!” he said, pulling change into his jacket, and fleeting the scene without a decency to hide the body.