I have been shot many times
by bullets of hate
Lain face down in my blood
as death stole my fate
With siren and uniforms
they surround me with markers
Framed by my rich plasma
as my Picasso looms larger
Hauled off by employees
in zipped disposal bags
No doubt the most attention
I have ever had
And I can hear mama
asking Jesus why me
Like the chorus to a song
play on
play on
as long as they keep killing me
More at http://www.amazon.com/Urban-Removal-John-Robert-Bland/dp/1493743341.