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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1857324-TRAYVON-MARTIN
by Domo
Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Death · #1857324
something that came to mind
I think to myself,
Is it safe for me to go out?
I don't really know.

Then again,
Why should I be afraid
To step out in my neighborhood?

Do you not like me
Because the color of my skin?
Do I deserve to die
For a so called sin?

I just bought an
Arizona and skittles,
It's not like it was Gin.

Neighborhood watch,really,
We can't rely on this.
You're suppose to protect me,
Not murder me because of my skin.

Look in the mirror at your reflection,
the criminal is standing there, but yet
Nothing is happening.
I was shot dead while he is free laughing.

My life was taken away from me,
But I am still living.
I'm yelling very loud for justice
And it won't stop until it's given.
© Copyright 2012 Domo (domolovezyou at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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