THIS IS A FICTIONAL POEM
The final embrace
A man just shot fifteen people in this cafe and I had to watch them die.The only two people he hasn't killed are my son and I.
He says he only has one bullet left and he's aiming his gun at my son's head.
Somehow I'm going to have to convince him to spare my boy and shoot me instead.
I'm begging him to shoot me with his gun.
But he says that he'd rather kill my son.
I just called him a son of a bitch and he just shot me in the chest.
I'm about to die but my son will live and that means I've been blessed.
My son just put his arms around me, it's the last time we'll be able to embrace.
Very soon I'll be gone, gone to a better place.
Poetry by Randy Johnson
Read 660 times
Written on 2007-11-18 at 18:11
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