Words.

Us.

Crashes.

Bus.

Fire.

Burns.

Screams.

Urns.

Funerals.

Who's turn... Is it?

Gun shots,

and bullet wombs.

We're killing ourselves.

We're killing you , 

but you did it.

You killed yourself,

you plus us

and we as a community.

Shot down each other,

for our color.

We kill one another,

correction we kill for one another...

But either way still killing,

not healing

but slowly revealing...

the real us

us and us

and god we trust,

but does he trust in me,

because the hurting.

The shooting.

The killing

and bleeding,

internally,

in me.

I mean in we,

we should be...

United.

Only wishing we could be,

Free.