Stealing Lives

They buried Weaver Tuck today;
A child of six barely sprung from the womb;
Caught in a cross-fire, snuffed like a candle,
Victim of senselessness barren of shame.
Where was his crime to be paid for so heavily?
What did he do to deserve such a fate?
He only wanted to play on the sidewalk;
Sidewalks demented by torrents of hate
And the violent steaming of senseless demands
That sink the level of genuine worth
To a point so low that life loses value,
As urges and cravings beguile common sense.
Shame becomes shapeless without recompense
And the Preacher is helpless
For no one will hear,
No one stands close enough to shed a tear,
And justice is silent or slow to dispense.

We live in a jungle where no one survives,
And hate is allowed to go on stealing lives.

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