Baby's head, so soft and quiet. <br /> <br />While mother looks on in shock its head cracks and bursts and spits blood and brains across the bus window. Already the large black man behind me has jumped me from behind. A mob from the front seats kick and stomp me endlessly as a mother screams in disbelief. As I lose my thoughts I can't for the life of me remember what I just did. <br /> <br />There's blood all over me but the blood on my hand isn't mine...<br /><br />John Kipling Lewis<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/bus-ride-4/
