Brothers

Paul Bell

Black on good

Touches his manhood

Like a mother should

Thinks it should be in a museum

For God and good

Joey, dreamlike

Always plays it cool

Keeps a gun tucked

Fourteen carat

Sideways dude

Mississippi, likes the rap

Urban cowboy

Got a holster with a flap

Just call me Missi

With an I

The first to die

Deals going down

Going down good

Expansion is the mood

Big time around the bend

Not now but when

Time to ascend

Hit the new den 

Death was quick for Missi

With an I

No fast draw

Urban cowboy

Shot in both eyes

Joey heard the scream

Through the dream

Pulled from the tuck

Kill you all

Shot off his balls

Sideways fall

Black on good

Like a brother

Felt their pain

Shot trying to save

Respect 

Got his final wish

Passed the Museum to his grave.

  • Author: Paul Bell (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: April 23rd, 2026 04:11
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 6
  • Users favorite of this poem: Teddy.15
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Comments +

Comments2

  • sorenbarrett

    Gang bang violence in this poem of shoot em up city life. A fun read with a swaggering flow. Nicely done

  • Teddy.15

    This one is definitely giving (in the hoods of darkness vibes), I believe the UK is becoming this. A very powerful and very visual piece dear Paul. Maybe it's time to take the streets and the shops back? 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿



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