By: Cedric McClester

She cleaned his blood trail
Off of the ground
In front of the housing projects
Where her son’s body was found
Shot twice in his face
And also in his chest
Then taken to the hospital
You can guess the rest

Unfortunately he was
Dead upon arrival
With his kind of wounds
The chances for survival
Are so often slim to none
Especially if it’s a 38 caliber gun
The kind of weapon
That was unleashed on her son

In the ghetto there’s often
So much toil and strife
That it makes you question
What’s the value of human life?
When the deceased is
Someone’s loved one(husband or wife)
Or a somebody's son
That’s losing their life

The level of self-hatred
Has to be deep seated
In the black community
Where that scene is repeated
And the solution beats me
As to what is the key
Cos it’s done
With repeated frequency


Cedric McClester © 2021.  All rights reserved.