If I could meet your wary eyes again
From the other side
I'd make sure nobody died.
Little soul,
Who cried his Uncle's lying blood into the concrete
And wore his pride, broken and empty, on his tiny head;
They stole your heart.
Love them.
Who dyed his hair bloody in sweet bile
And wild-moon-crushed the hatred swarms
Be still.
Above the darkness
There's a cloudy sky.
You're a council step away from precipice
A prejudice away from venomous
A purposeless away from dinner-hot revenge.
An envious away from psychopath
A barbered tongue away from aftermath
And little, moon-touched soul,
Keep standing.
Slow breaths.
Mend.