Close-up of a bullet hole in glass isolated on black
Photo by alptraum on Depositphotos

I only stopped to get some milk,
I should have gone straight home.
I didn’t think to call and say,
I would be running late.

The shooter walked into the store,
And all of time stood still.
I heard the echoes of the shots,
But stood there in a trance.

Read another perspective on the Buffalo shooting: A Letter From an Incarcerated Person to the Buffalo Mass Shooter

I was not sure he’d shoot at me,
But felt my time had come.
The bullet never knew my race,
But the cruel shooter did.

I died that day for being Black,
The news would soon report.
I could have lived another day,
But for a hate-filled man.

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.

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M. Yayah Sandi

M. Yayah Sandi is a writer incarcerated in New Jersey. He requested that his first name be withheld.