My television on the side of the road.
I have adopted pain but don't need to know.
Taking lives is what wrote before the time I woke.
Another brother trace around with chalk.
As a mother scream to her knees barely can walk.
How can the reporter hold there tears.
It even sadden me to hear such violence that
appears in our community.
Leaving me with this misery only cause me to
drown myself in alcohol.
There to many criminal lockup and the justice system
might start killing them all.
I fall to the floor thinking there nothing more I can do.
But say my words and hope they get to, the one
that are young exposing red more than blue.
Constant is the true meaning of our lives session.
I choose not to watch anymore, as the poor down the poor.
In our common news of depression.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem