When one is shot, it still makes news,
Normally involving known crime.
The victim's sorted by who's who's,
A motive found in place, in time.
The unsolved cases give me thought.
Are some simply shot randomly?
What are the odds my being shot,
By you who just happens to be
Walking a busy city street,
When and where I am walking too,
And by chance the two of us meet,
As I walk, I am shot by you?
Just you and me in ebb and flow,
No rhyme nor reason - just tiz so!
Ima Ryma's Other Poems
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