Troubled Times by Edie Tucker

I want to rap you a page about a young mans rage, He bought him a gun so he can be center stage and he walked himself out on a cloudy night, lookin for trouble,looking to fight Another young man came wakin down the street; mindin his own business, looking clean and sweet.He carried thebook,walked a little lame,and made the perfect target for the player in this game So the peditor he draws his gun,the young man sees it starts to run, drgs his leg to get away but the preditor still shoots his prey..Down in the street with a sickening thud, the young man lies bleeding his bible soaked with blood He looks at the shooter with disbeleiving eyes , takes one last breath as the life within him dies. The rat with the gun wants the young mans gold and cash wants to empty out the wallet and throw it in the trash, but a siren starts a wailing and he give things a toss, stuffs the wallet in his pocket and an odd old golden cross. The rat hurries home, now he wants to sleep. Throws his things down in a heap, Momma comes home from work just to do one more chore when she notices the wallet lying open on the floor She blinks her eyes in disbelief at the photo the wallet shows . It is a picture of her son , but dressed in different clothes. there lying right beside it , now shes at a toltal lose, is an old gift from her grandma an odd, old golden cross,Shes Totally confused now and memories start to flood, as she loks down and the picture and sees the drops of blood. She was just seventeen, It was an awful day. She told her boyfriend she was pregnant and he shrugged and walked away She didn't see a doctor , not knowing what to do and found out in the birth room she carried not one ,but two. One was full birth weight , healthy and strong, the other the doctor told her , was born with some thing wrong, She could not think to keep him, when someone of good deeds , offered to take the baby and help him with his needs She wanted to do the right thing and crying at her lose, she handed him off to the pastors wfe and gave the child her cross. The pain that broke that mothers heart was not like any other , for when her son killed that young man , he killed of his own brother. In the home of the pastor Mothers pacing the floor , its gotten dark her sons not home and he's never been this late before. He isnt back from the chaple , hasn't called on the phone , its getting late and it's not like him , her son ,who ain't ever comin home. Lets quit the violence , Turn the table, stop the game of Cain and Able , we are't fooling noone but ourselves. All around the world, parents at home , waitin for the child who aint ever comin home . Stop the pain of all the mothe Kill the guns and not the sisiter and the brother KILL GUNS NOW ,