Photo by Tasos Mansour on Unsplash

This is this perfect storm, dark clouds and rain drops, this is the weather in the hood immediately after the gun shots.
Tears shed for another ghetto bastard.

Another child down in a war that’s everlasting,
muzzle flashes and gun smoke,
eyes swollen, puffed up and low.

Thunder roaring in the sky,
Tears formed in many mothers’ eyes,
a perfect storm that forms in the sky whenever a child dies,
the perfect storm is a mother’s cry.

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Christopher Reece

Christopher Reece is a writer incarcerated in Michigan. He has been in prison since he was 20 years old.