“Don’t shoot.”
They shot.
The truth?
They lied.
His mum?
She cried.
Her son?
He died.
The hurt?
Inside.
The gun?
Thrown down.
His hands?
Both up.
What for?
Who knows?
The world?
Fucked up.
Police?
Gone mad.
Result?
More stress.
I feel,
Distress.

Harry Rogers, In the Red Bedroom, 17th April 2021