war

The sun never looked so bloody
Heating up the hell that resides in these dark and dim streets
Where yells and cries are becoming the anthem for daily life
Where homes are uprooted by the
emptiness of those that took root in
these familiar spaces
Where bullet cases are as common as the brown grass that outlines these deserted streets
As the echoes of what was lingers in the
bosoms of prisoners being held
in solitary confinement
Confined to a space that one day may be raided by those that claimed to protect and to serve
Serving up countless corpses in back alley-ways
and counterfeit grave sites
Where they will forever then remain faceless
Facing this harsh reality are families
being warned by other examples that
justice is hypocritical for all accounts

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