Past Your Bedtime Poem by Tanner Herndon

He ran out of a building,
Nothing more than a mud shack,
Covered in dirt and feces,
I felt like he knew my name,
I felt as if I was in relation with the child,
He opened fire:
The AK-47 kicked his shoulder like a mule,
Hot, sizzling wasps whispered obscenities in our ears,
As they flew by on a mission to sting whoever,
His mechanical wasp's nest seizures relentlessly,
We all knew what had to be done, but nobody
Wanted to say the words,
We fired:
Tears hammered the desert beneath us,
Quenching its insatiable thirst,
We put midnight into his eyes,
And made a wish for the boy,
We wished we could stand there forever,
Crying, filling a well full of our tears,
So they would never have to walk
More than ten feet for water,
They would have the ocean on their doorstep.