16 years old without a mother.
Doesn't even really have a brother.
He took off, just ran away.
Ignored every single delay.
Sometimes I put myself in his shoes.
And wonder how he sees a bruise.
Normally a bruise is very bright.
But my bro sees it as black and white.
He's the kinda guy who could make you wanna flee.
That's kind of just like me.
We live in this rough neighborhood.
Everyone knew the score and understood.
Till one day something caught bro's eye.
Something he would never dream to buy.
He never bought anything.
For his favorite hobby was stealing.
He tried to steal this special thing.
But then the alarm began to ring.
Soon the cops would be there.
But he didn't even care.
He walked out the store.
Down the road sirens began to roar.
My bro wasn't even stirred.
But I was ready to fly away like a bird.
Police surrounded us.
I let out a cuss.
Held my hands out and put them over my head.
Shots rang out and bro fell dead.
I screamed out, "No!"
My world became blurry and slow.
I wished I could help, but it was too late.
My heart swelled with hate.
"You bastards!" I yelled out.
I pulled out my gun and began to shoot without doubt.
Soon pain came over me.
As I fell down on my knees.
My eyes saw bro's face.
I smiled cause I knew we were finally free from this place.
