Dallas Winston didn't want to be the way he was.
He never wanted to be a bitter hood.
He never wanted to be an angry child, an angry kid, an angry man.
But he was.
He was born into a world that wanted him.
All alone.
Running down the streets, fighting for his life.
Gazing at the world with a cold glare.
He never wanted to be like that.
But he was.
And here he is.
Running down the streets.
The gun in his hand.
Just like he was learned when he was a young, young child.
He never knew different.
He never knew love.
He didn't know what affection was.
All alone now.
Johnny was dead and he had nothing more to live for.
No one to love.
No one to love him.
He didn't want this turn on his life.
He didn't want to live any more for a new fit of nothing.
Nothing.
That was what he had.
Nothing to love.
Nothing to be loved from.
The light from light pole was simple.
Shining weakly in the dark night.
A simple light in the air to everyone.
Everyone except him.
His salvation.
Tears on his skin.
Crying over the dead man's body.
The sound of sirens so close, yet so distant.
A glance over his shoulder.
Their guns raised.
Raising his gun.
No danger.
But no one knows.
They only see danger.
Their shots screaming in the night.
He reached what wanted.
The light was finally his.
Laying in the on the ground.
His breathing fading to nothing.
Leaving this world.
Leaving the world that brought him so much pain.
Finally reaching happiness.
Dallas Winston got what he wanted.
Dallas Winston always get what he wants…