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Mar 2012
A boy, sixteen,
Like he's seventy.
Things he's seen,
Bares with levity.
Two eyes, too young,
To be witness
To a crime
That's so hannis.
Still he talks,
To his family.
Recalls the day,
All this happened.
Just eleven,
Saw the burglar coming,
Kicked down the door
Took mom to heaven.
Dad ran in,
But had no chance,
And in a moment
His life had passed.
The boy was left,
In the closet.
Held his breath,
Untill he lost it.
Tears streamed down,
Dropped from his cheek.
And out he ran,
While he weeped.
The killer noticed,
And quick two shots.
The boy was hurt,
The bad man dropped.
The sirens heard,
Police had come
To save the day.
Cuffed the man,
Took the boy away.
But alas,
The boy's still haunted,
To join his parents,
Was all he wanted.
Seth Connor Jackson
Written by
Seth Connor Jackson  New Jersey
(New Jersey)   
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