Tuesday, January 25, 2011

The Guilt and the Gun By Jasen Sousa

The Guilt and the Gun

The 4th of July.
A night so clear you could count every star in the sky.
Here’s a tale about some guy, well, let’s call him a kid.
Slippery sneakers, city skates, pay attention to how far down he slid.
Yawning, waking up in the morning, he starts to get dressed.
Not stressed because he blocks out all the sins he never confessed.
Zipped up his jean shorts and tied his Jordans.
Very hot before noon, sweat off his head already pouring.
Mother in the next room snoring, little brother out riding his bike,
and his father has been missing since he came out of the womb and first saw light.

Out all day wandering the streets,
running into old friends which he greets.
Trying to avoid those with whom he accumulated debts,
they would beat him down until his last breaths.
He carefully takes steps throughout the town where he resides,
through these streets he glides, he hides, this is how he survives.
Smoking some weed behind an abandoned building.
I liked Benny, but did not like that he was selling drugs to the younger children.
His eyes have changed since he was a young lad,
but what he was going through was no teenage fad

There was a fireworks display at the local park,
a show which promised to illuminate the sky which sat dark.
Benny set off a gun spark in a girl’s direction,
a girl which for years, denied him any love or affection.
The shot hit her in the midsection, police and ambulances coverd city streets.
The paramedic discovered, this girl’s heart no longer beats.
People trampled over each other in their seats, crowd roared
as fireworks continued to soar.
Benny’s face smothered down in the grass, police cuffed his wrists
as smoke from the fireworks filled the scene with a mysterious mist.

Benny has been in and out of jail,
when he’s free his life just doesn’t seem real.
He likes having a certain reputation,
without the hard guy image, he would be nothing in this nation.
This time he won’t be getting out anytime soon,
this was his first time sending another human being to their doom.
One bedroom surrounded by steel, listen to Benny wail, no one else can hear.
Don’t let Benny tell you he doesn’t care.
This type of filth can never be overcome,
Benny now holds the guilt and the gun.

Taken From
A Mosaic of My Mind By Jasen Sousa (Written at age 24)

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