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Gerber Murder
someday they'll burn
the park bench this
little boy sits on,
it's red and shiny
like his lunchbox.
he scratches the glaze
with his tiny finger,
gummy beneath the nail,
smiling, he likes the
look of newness murdered,
giggles as he thinks
about the damage.
when the bench begins to rot,
it will start along the line
he drew while the others
played tag and drank juice,
he wonders what else
he can ruin forever
with a silent little scrape,
for his birthday
he asks for a pocketknife,
thinking about how much
he likes the glisten
of red in the sun,
and sticky hands
that change the future.
he makes a list
of the others that never
sat on his favorite bench
with him, he will tag them all.
Broken Teeth
Be deaf to the ones who make an attempt
To hurt you, a tongue of black,
Be deaf to the ones holding you in contempt
For their own unrighteous act,
Who try to leave your dreams eliminated,
Inconsiderate and selfish,
The perfect picture imagined, disintegrated,
From words they uttered, so Hellish
Don't let the words create destruction
Keep your lips closed, hold in corruption
Please, do whatever it takes
Clench the teeth till the enamel breaks.