By: Cedric McClester

He was shot down
On the cold concrete
Falling over in a giant heap
A pool of blood
Marked the spot in the street
A chalk outline
Makes the picture complete

After she heard
A knock at her door
That Mother’s Day
Was like none before
He was mistaken
She was quite sure
What did he mean
Her son was no more

Her son was in
Some sort of dispute
Who was right or wrong
At this point is moot
The bottom line is
They started to shoot
And the bullets took
A circuitous route

That Mother’s Day
She’ll never forget
No other one
Had produced such regret
‘Til this very day
She’s still upset
Over the tragic end
That her only son met


Cedric McClester, Copyright (c) 2020.  All rights reserved.