This,
policeman died,
by my hands.
The,
moment altered,
my existence.
But,
damn it was,
funny.
So,
strong he thought he,
was.
But,
I was too quick,
for him to grab,
his gun.
And,
absent that gun,
he reverted back to his natural state.
Being,
this weak little human being.
Oh,
how he screamed.
Oh,
how he begged.
Oh,
how he thought,
I had the ability to care.
Oh,
how I'll forever,
see his,
silly white eyes.
These,
eyes which wondered,
where were the other guys.
That,
wondered why was it,
just he,
and I.
The,
power in my fist,
seemed godly.
Each,
punch altered,
his reality.
For,
after about,
60,
he was a causality.
A,
being which shall no longer be.
Always,
he would watch.
Always,
surveiling the block.
Always,
talking as if,
a god.
Pushing,
us around.
Slamming,
heads into the ground.
Look,
at him now.
For,
though I'll be forever,
on the run.
And,
of course when this gang,
finds me,
they'll shoot me up.
But still,
this little bitch,
will never,
get up...
©yungb123
Y