Dead at 17

Conversations Of The Dying

These bullets burn deep inside my chest, as my every breath brings me closer to my most certain death.

Dead at seventeen, I could had never imagined, but this was the life I chose, it's all apart of the madness.

But still though, I'm way too young to die now, lord please let me live.

Then I was hit with a flashback of all of the dirt that I did throughout my years.

Lord I know I did wrong, but if you give me another chance, I promise I will change.

I will stay out of the streets, get saved, and bring glory to your name.

Please God I beg of you, have mercy, just give me one more chance.

I cannot leave this earth now without ever becoming a man.

Lord who's going to lookout for my mom's and my baby sister?

My mom always told me, "One day these streets are going to catch up with you."

But please Lord not me, do not give up on me. I still need time to be all that I can be.

Then a voice as loud as thunder echoed inside my head.

"Son your time is up, there is no more that needs to be said."

No Lord ,please. I desperately try to change my fait.

My lungs are on fire, and the air inside of them is starting to escape.

The doctors send one final shock to my wounded chest.

I hear one doctor whisper out, "It's over, he has no time left.

So as the last few seconds of my short lived life passes me by.

I ask God to answer a couple of questions before I die.

Lord why couldn't you give me more time to change?

I won't be able to experience having kids, getting married, or any of those things.

"I gave you plenty of opportunities, and I gave you a ton of signs in your life.

But you ignored all of my warnings and did as you liked."

I'm so sorry Lord, I never meant to offend.

I was just trying to make a way out of the harsh circumstances that I was living in.

My next question God, will my mom and my sister be okay?

I don't think that they can handle having me and my father both being taken away.

"Yes son it will be hard, but in the end they both will be just fine."

Well I guess I have one last question before I run out of time.

Lord will I make it into heaven?

______________ flat line.

Damn, I'm dead at seventeen.