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.
Disclaimer: The views in this article are those of the author. Prison Journalism Project has verified the writer’s identity and basic facts such as the names of institutions mentioned.