Poem inspired by a real-life murder

This poem is dedicated to Tush and Brycey 

A Stolen Life
I am walking home, it is dark
There may be a moon but it's not full
There are streetlights but they show up not the terrors of the night
I am 15, I am young.
I wonder what I'll do this eve'?
Play cards, some booze, smoke, scream?
Homework, now wouldn't that be different?

Oi you, what the fuck de ya think yer doin?
Walkin' home mate? Alone mate? On yer fuckin owen mate?

I see only pairs of eyes, some teeth flash in my face
That is the only light, which is quickly made dark.

What ya doin on yer fuckin' owen mate?
De ya mind, gimme that club there Billy!
It's not a fuckin' club!
Well give it  'ma anaway!
Tell ya wot I'll give it a him!

I'm doubled over a thousand years
The deepest, wrenching, twisting numb!
I feel my flesh being tugged to uselessness.
I know now that I won't have children.

Blind fury glazes both my eyes as I squirm and glance at 15 pairs of feet
Never a more lethal injection did I foresee
Than the spike of this pool cue between the feet wearing boots like me.

Shove it up his fuckin' arse!
We've godda strup 'em first though.

Shred by shred, they bare my remains
Coloured now in shades of black
Blacker than the devil himself
Their evil seeped from every pore
Generations of depression sweep together into one foul cue
It is over for me!

Inky

Note from author:Tush's friend's brother was found naked, battered to death with a pool cue stuck up his anus - 15 years old in a street in Glasgow.