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armando-cardenasPoems
Franz left his car keys in the backseat of his Camry, He was locked out, He was jimmying the door with a Swiss Army knife, Trying to pry it open. I just got out of class, I held the knife as he pulled at the door handle, Keeping him company. Then there was a man behind us, Yelling at both Franz and me. Put your hands up and step away from the car, A police cruiser pulled up, Two more men jumped out Already armed, Guns drawn, Aimed right between my eyes, I can look down the barrels, See glimmers of copper. Put your hands behind your head, Oh **** we're ******* dead, Get on your knees, Don't look away, look at me, We both did what the men with badges and guns said, We tried to explain ourselves. One man picked me up off the asphalt, Walked me over, And pinned me on the hood of the cruiser, The paint was fresh. Another man took my backpack, Shook out the contents, His smirk told me he wasn't satisfied, not yet. He then searched through my jacket pockets, Patted me down, A dark kid in nice clothes. It all seems to check out.
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Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 2:53 PM UTC
Another Day at School
Franz left his car keys in the backseat of his Camry, He was locked out, He was jimmying the door with a Swiss Army knife, Trying to pry it open. I just got out of class, I held the knife as he pulled at the door handle, Keeping him company. Then there was a man behind us, Yelling at both Franz and me. Put your hands up and step away from the car, A police cruiser pulled up, Two more men jumped out Already armed, Guns drawn, Aimed right between my eyes, I can look down the barrels, See glimmers of copper. Put your hands behind your head, Oh **** we're ******* dead, Get on your knees, Don't look away, look at me, We both did what the men with badges and guns said, We tried to explain ourselves. One man picked me up off the asphalt, Walked me over, And pinned me on the hood of the cruiser, The paint was fresh. Another man took my backpack, Shook out the contents, His smirk told me he wasn't satisfied, not yet. He then searched through my jacket pockets, Patted me down, A dark kid in nice clothes. It all seems to check out.
Written by
armando-cardenas
Los Angeles
Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 2:53 PM UTC
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