Hands Up
“Hands up!” the man in blue screams
Sweat drips down my brow, forward I lean
Do I run? Do I die?
Do I accept my fate, be alive but dead inside
A bag of chips, a can of soda and I dipped
Thought I was fast, but brittle man is only so quick
I drop the items and turn slowly
A slap is on the wrist is all I get hopefully
A sound grazes my thigh, rather a buzz
On instinct I reach for my phone as everyone does
And in a flash, I’m bleeding
In my head I am screaming
I see the concrete cracks quickly fill with red
Is this what I get, Is this my end?
Justifications over life never meant for debate
But I was told never tread this path, for this is supposed to be our fate