Time zoomed by
left behind a smoking trail
and skidmarks only I could see

Nobody cared when I said
I’d been a victim of a drive-by shooting,
Love in the driver’s seat

So I stemmed my bleeding with paper
Turned poetry into paper planes
And sent them flying everywhere I saw the rogues appear

One of these days,
One of them will find its mark
And bring my perpetrators to justice.

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Image via Greg Rakozy on Unsplash

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