Goes On
He walks alone the echo streets
His gun finally shot.
Black hair filled with his sweat.
The blood stained air awaits.
His trainers pull him back
With the sirens hissing near by
No, he can't leave his friends
He can't leave them there to die.
Survivors run, his life is not worthy
for a one way ticket to jail.
No he is left for the police, the sirens.
Blooded is the time, that the gun stole.
His trainers hit the pavement
His future looks too dull, in the concret river.
The grungy subway passes him
and the world, no longer,
Goes on.
©Laura Quinn/Fuzi
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Graphics made by: *JoshMoonson* |