Driving down a dark street, <br />raging havoc <br />on the person one seeks. <br />Smokin' on the Mary J., <br />displays the premonitions <br />of one's own mission, <br />to strike out <br />with all deadly intentions. <br />seeing the crowd of man, <br />reaching for the gun <br />raising sand, <br />hearing pops, <br />making contact with blood <br />falling onto the land. <br />White and yellow colors outline the scene. <br />red and blue flashers <br />with badges and masters <br />trying to keep the scene serene. <br />Trippin' on the idea of blue's clues. <br />Reacting with the party <br />when your face is featured <br /> on the 10 o'clock news. <br />Sitting behind bars <br />for being notorious. <br />Trippin' with the buddies <br />realizing your passion of acts <br />was not so glorious. <br />Standing in front of the grim reaper, <br />the teacher <br />who's words frown <br />one's facial features. <br />Sinking into tears of fears <br />of the reapers critique. <br />Hearing echoes of the judgement <br />the reaper speaks. <br />Seeing life pass you by <br />like a baby's lullaby. <br />reaching for the freedom <br />that one seeks <br />when 'VIOLENE SPEAKS.'<br /><br />Tiffany Saxon<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/violence-speaks/