The streets are not the same
without the laughter emanating from
your eyes.
A burst of energy
dissipated into vapor-like forms.
Echoes resound, as we try to grasp
unto the inconceivable - life that is no more.
Who will breath the breaths that you have inhaled and exhaled?
Who will cry your salty tears?
Who will love, and tumble through joys and losses
like you, my friend?
You have been mercilessly traded for
the silence that is the aftermath of a regrettable act,
and these gunshots have become embedded into my flesh
as I mourn.
http://homicides.suntimes.com/2015/08/18/16-year-old-caprice-mccollum-dies-after-shooting-in-lawndale-that-also-killed-jerome-phelps/
* I personally did not know these boys, but am told that one of them lived on the same street where I am currently living. The shooting happened this past Sunday a couple of streets away.
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