Don't Shoot Me

by Bianca Delarosa

 Donít shoot me at Walmart
 I am just playing a game
 Or talking on the phone
 I am a man with a name

 
So, donít shoot me in the street
 On my way from the store
 Iím on my way to college
 I have my foot in the door

 
Please donít shoot me, Mr. Officer
 I got my wallet, like you asked
 Your fear makes me nervous
 As does the impact from your blast

 
Knock on my door, Mr. Officer
 Rather than kick it down
 I would open it most gladly
 And let you sit down

 
You have too much fear to have power
 Full of the corruption it brings
 Bringing the bad moon to rise
 Haunted by the specter of old things

 
If you shoot me Mr.Officer
 And end my existence
 My soul will cry out for justice
 As you pray for forgiveness

 
But, know this Mr. Officer
 That your deeds will be known
 Whatever you reap
 Will be what you have sown

 
You are in fear for your life
 Well, so am I for mine
 You have a weapon in your hands
 While in the air I hold mine
 

Don't Shoot Me by Bianca Delarosa

© Copyright 2014. All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be duplicated or copied without the expressed written consent of the author.



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