The Gun The Results

Be not afraid of any man, no matter what his size
When larger than you is he, call on me and I will equalize

BULLSHIT, BULLSHIT, BULLSHIT!

Bumble bees fly, stingers of lead
Children lay dead
Her baby dies, a mother cries
Do you feel their pain

Another drive by

You with the gun, with shit for brains
What is it, piss that runs through your veins?

You bought a radio for 40 dollars you say
and the tunes don't play

What's that got to do with a child of six
shes not part of the mix

Hey you who sold him the tunes
you couldn't give him back his 40 -- you spent it too soon.

A senseless death
because two assholes had met

A baby dies
A mother cries

All because guns are too much in supply.

jimmy j
3/01/02

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This poem is about the murder of Ajanee Pollard, age 7. The wounding of her brother Jason, age 6 and two others along with their mother.

ALL over a 40 dollar radio that didn't work. One too stubborn or too stupid to give the money back and another too crazy, so he killed over it!

Time of day: 12:30 p.m.
Place: West side of Detroit
Date: February 27th, 2002

Life In Conflict

Thunder pounding relentlessly in his brain
Wondering streets of despair
Plundering, on and on, no night, no day
No understanding, no pain
Lusting for the drugs delight
Make shift tombs, nothing sane
Insanity prevails
Constant conflict with imaginary voices
Never stopping over and over again
Heart's pounding, racing, a volcano fueled by drugs
Erupting in violence from lack of refrain
Not loving, feeling not understanding
He cares not, no realization of truth
Believing his lies if only to retain his flight
No method to his madness
Just chasing the high, never to fly
No one can help
Till he helps himself
His destiny a deathbed of regret