They shot him twice in the stomach.
I watched him die.
He was twelve.
They tried to tell me it was ’cause he was too big
They tried to tell me he reached for it.
They tried to tell me they warned him.
They tried to tell me it was his fault.
Still,
They shot him twice in the stomach.
I watched him die.
He was twelve.
[And I know it’s ’cause he looked like me]
Poetry Is Black 