I’m only six years old
but I can tell you stories left untold,
of things I’ve seen bought and sold.
Over there by that stop sign
that’s where they strung the police line
after Mr. X shot that brother of mine.
He was a nice boy to know
and I’d follow him wherever he’d go,
except when he bought that powdered snow.
He told me it would make him well
but Mama said it would send him straight to hell
and she was right, pray tell.
He was dead as they drove by
A thousand bullets lit up the sky
and I sadly told my brother goodbye.
He could have said NO
but that wasn’t the cool way to go,
and why he did it I’ll never know.
Mama cries daily now
and I must help her through somehow
for that’s my solemn vow.
I’m the man of the house once more
and now I know for sure
what dangers lie on the other side of my door.
I’m only six years old today
and what I really want to say
is why did drugs have to ruin my birthday!
(c) Christine G. Law
All Rights Reserved
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