Life is short, so bittersweet, as we paddle our feet, along its dead end street, There was this kid, he was so neat, just being in his company, was a treat. He carried my bags, and took out my trash, never once, acquiring for cash, I watch him grow up, and become a man, but unfortunately, fate had a plan, when I saw him, my heart could not beat, he was laying in the gutter, dead in the street, His soulful eyes empty, no spirit or mind, the agony I felt, could not be defined, his body spilling forth, a river of blood, pouring in the drain pipes, daring to flood, onlookers stared, but no one cared, his ending it seemed, just wasn't fair, he hurt no one, in his meaningless life, he never got to have children, or take a wife, He smiled at everyone, and caused no strife, but was taken by, a vengeful gun in hand, someone, who is no one, not half the man, His mother cried, a river of tears, because he didn't live to see, twenty years, I looked at him, I couldn't cry, why do the good ones, have to die? Life is but a dead end street, fatality, we cannot defeat. Life is short, sometimes bittersweet, as we move forward, paddling our feet, life is but, a dead end street
Reason for writing:
I will tell you another time
Birth sign: Aquarius
You need to log in to edit this poem if it is yours.
View more poems by Person needing assistance.