They stalk the streets with Guns and Shanks,
Looking for rivals to bleed of drown;
On bicycles for speed and to outflank,
Foe, who dare to cross their hallowed ground.
Then one day the evil ventured by,
Like a pungent breeze of wind, no sound.
And untargeted bullets then let fly
Bringing Thu-sha, Ka-ma-les-wa-ran down.
In a red cardigan and pretty pink dress,
A care free rabbit hopped across the floor,
When a bullet splintered her innocent chest,
And the helpless angel danced no more.
Paralysed by a gangster’s gun,
Through escalated feuds to open war.
Streets amok where villains run,
Her shattered spine, our broken hearts abhor.
Remorse is sadly beyond their scope,
And conscience an alien thought.
Our society lost in forlorn hope,
And the lawful worried with fraught.
But our spirits have not yet failed,
And when god rings his timeless bell.
And when their lives have expire in our living jail,
May he dam them to eternal hell.
End.
Written 29th March 2012
By Everton Brome.
©
- Author: Everton Brome ( Offline)
- Published: November 5th, 2015 15:26
- Comment from author about the poem: Where Villains Run By Everton Brome. This poem was written for Thusha Kamaleswaran and the innocent victims of this world who have experienced violence. After I heard of her tragic event, I had no means of contacting her or exporting my sympathies, so I wrote this poem in deep anger as to this troublesome world we live in; sadness, as I too have family her age, and in the deepest of regret that as much as I would like to protect children from harm, that I am totally useless. If this causes any pain to any person, especially Thusha I humbly apologise. May God comfort us all. Everton Brome.
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