Sweet, wasn't it, the taste of each bead of the little red packet.
Quenching, wasn't it, the sweet essence inside the one dollar bottle.
Or at least it would have been when I got home that night.
When I didn't return home my parents report me, missing
Only to find me an hour later
Yes I am gone, dead
A year of trials and tribulations
Tears litter the floor, protests in front of the court room doors
Was he right, was he wrong, your choice: Courts of public opinion.
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This was a small tribute to Trayvon Martin, seventeen year old boy of African-American decent who was shot by George Zimmerman, a Hispanic neighborhood watch officer. Even though the authorities told Zimmerman not to pursue Trayvon, he did so any way. In the end a young boy end up dead and his shooter free on the streets of Florida. Protects rock the country as there are many souls who find the verdict unbelievable. Leave in the comments your ideas and beliefs about the crime and case.
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More info can be found at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shooting_of_Trayvon_Martin#Background_of_the_shooting or http://www.cnn.com/2013/06/05/us/trayvon-martin-shooting-fast-facts
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Midnight Writings
PoetryThis is a collection of poems that I've written over a period of time. They range from a few personal pieces to pieces about simple things or day to day reality. Most of my pieces are just words that cross my mind that fall into a poem without me e...
