Today I killed a man.
He was a  good man,  with a  wife  and
three kids waiting for him in a suburban
house  about  half a  mile  from  the city
with two  nice  cars and  a  trained dog.
     I killed that man
just because  he  wanted  his money. The
one-dollar  bills  weren't  enough, so in I
went,  deep into  his   stomach, rupturing
exactly  7  different  veins, one  of  which
was a  main  artery, and  slicing  open his
spleen.  The  good  man might have lived
if he didn't take  the  man’s  hard-earned
phone. Instead,  the good  man  bled out
in a dark alley between  Main Street and
3rd   Avenue.  No  one   heard  his  cries
or  turned   a  head  to   simply  look,  so
he   died  before  any  aid  reached   him.
     I created  a  widow and  three fatherless children
     I created a broken home and a dark, dead place.
I won’t  go  to  jail though, but I will
be confiscated  because  I’m nothing
but the knife inside the thief's pocket.