Oh God, look who picked up a gun.
It's nobody but a trusted son.
Will he shoot or keep the crowd freeze.
Son don't shoot! ! Son don't shoot! !
A man is now a little boy.
A screaming woman is now everyone's daughter.
'Please don't shoot me I'm innocent'.
Life is priceless, no cent!
There come a silence in dark.
Shots fired.
I heard a 'BOOM'.
Now a crowd is packed in a single room.
A sinner now see heavens door opened.
Is it far or close to enter.
Oh please.
Paparazzi caught the devil praying.
Oh it's a son with a gun cheering.
Sinless souls ought to be guilty.
A gun in his hand, tears in his face.
He looks black, colored, can't define his race.
Pardon me, did I say he is a son? .
He got a gun in hand, he is now a man.
The poet even can't read his emotions.
Then shots were fired! ! Shots fired!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem